


Name of a Witch

by SecretScribbles



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ? - Freeform, A lot - Freeform, Action, And Lots of It, Angst, Blood, F/M, Fighting, Ghost!Mikasa, He has a kitty that makes him worry, He's also a dork, I'll tag more with each chapter, Jean has a lot of feelings ok?, Jean is a professor, Jean knows sign language, Jean's POV, Join the madness, Lore - Freeform, M/M, Magic!AU, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of weapons, Modern AU, Multi, Nerd sense of humor, Non-Consensual Drug Use, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Swearing, The Hobo is an SNK character, This is going to have SO many tags, We learn about him when Jean does, Witch!Marco, anger and actions, because I love happy times, bless him, but also happy times too, can't be too careful, don't want to give out too much yet, hunter!Connie, if I can get it right, medical talk, monsters abound, mute character, possible polly, some homophobic actions, supernatural!AU, witch!AU, witch!Sasha, witch!armin, witch!jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-23 02:11:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 112,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9636281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretScribbles/pseuds/SecretScribbles
Summary: Jean is just a normal guy going through a normal life with normal problems. Then he meets Bob.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> And so it begins.

 

 

**Chapter 1**

  
  


Every time I see this guy, he’s huddled up in his corner. He doesn’t beg, he doesn’t talk. He doesn’t even try to communicate with anybody- almost as if he doesn’t want to. I say almost because I know the life of the hermit and that guy… he’s not it. His eyes follow people with this obvious longing for interaction but still, he stays in his corner.

 

Even now as I’m preparing dinner for me and Sina, I can see him through my window, sitting in his corner trying to keep warm. He just showed up one day. No idea where or when but, about a month ago the guy randomly picks that corner as his new home and settles in. The first time I saw him, I was walking home from work and accidentally tripped over his outstretched legs while he was sleeping. In all honesty, I wasn’t really paying attention but I swore up a storm nonetheless and scared him off. Haven’t really spoken to him since.

 

I still see him though. He’s just so… sweet. Every once in awhile, a kid will get his kite stuck in a tree or their ball will roll too far and he’s always there to give it back with a smile. It’s almost painful to see him every day because he’ll be willing to help without prompting, but never asks for anything. When he’s offered something for his trouble, he passes it down. Food, clothes, money; it doesn’t matter what, he’ll always reject it and leave before any more interaction can happen. He doesn’t want anything. I haven’t seen him move much though, recently.

 

It’s been getting colder, and with winter coming, the night comes quicker to cover him in the dark. I don’t think I’ve seen him leave his corner for the last couple days. It’s not that I’m worried about him, but it would kind of suck to have a man die in the park, you know? Even worse to have a kid find him… Fuck, I can’t concentrate like this.

 

Sina winds herself around my legs as I fry up some meat and meows sweetly at me for a bite, bringing me back to the here and now. Dinner's almost ready and she knows it. “Sorry, girl,” I mumble. “Got a little side tracked.”

 

She grumbles out a response and jumps up on the island behind me. She knows she’s not allowed to have any of my burritos but that won’t stop her from waiting for the bit of meat that I’ll slide into her dish. Spoiled rotten, that one. It’s my fault, really.

 

I scoop out enough meat onto the tortillas for me to have a hearty meal and scrape what’s left into her dish. Sina’s quick to gobble it all up but I still have some prep work to do. Three extra large burritos don’t just happen on their own, thank you very much, and normally, I can wolf them all down just fine. Tonight, though, I can’t stop thinking about that guy. I can barely get through one without feeling sick.

 

My plate just sits there and mocks me, the damn thing. I stare at it holding my dinner and scowl at the realization that I can’t eat. My head is too full, and apparently, so is my stomach. With a sigh, I admit defeat and go to wrap what’s left of my dinner in foil. Sina has other ideas and sits promptly at the front door, meowing loudly.

 

“Just a minute.”

 

Another meow.

 

“I said gimme a minute.”

 

Now she’s yowling.

 

“Damn it, brat, I know! We’ll go for a walk in a minute just let me wrap this up!”

 

She grunts at that and turns to face the door, swishing her tail irritably and giving me the cold shoulder. Fine. I don’t care. She can have her temper tantrum, I’m not wasting food. It takes me all of three minutes to finish up and head over to get my coat, scarf and hat. Sina’s raring to go and I’m all set but still, I have to sit her down for the leash- which she’s not really fond of. 

 

“You know the rules, brat, just until we get to the park.”

 

She still hisses at me. 

 

“Just, gimme a break here, okay?”

 

Finally, after some more complaining, I manage to clasp the latch onto her body harness and she hops up onto my shoulder with a grumpy huff. I know she’s a good cat, Hannes knows she’s a good cat, but after the last snot-nosed little brat tried to pet her and she scared the proper shit out of him, the rule was that she had to be contained in order to “keep the peace.” Otherwise mommy dearest would sue the crap out of both me and the building. Sina hates people on a good day- little kids are even worse. I don’t really blame her but still, she could have gone a little easier on the kid if only to make my life better.

 

Hannes waves at me as I exit the elevator and head out for our nightly walk. The park is across the street from my apartment and honestly, this has to be the only reason I chose to live here. Sina loves the outdoors and I actually don’t mind it either, so having an excuse to come out for her is nice. I can trust Sina to be on her own for a while if she needs it and that gives me time to clear my head from the day.

 

As soon as I step foot on the sidewalk surrounding the park, Sina meows loudly in my ear to take off her harness. Once it’s off, she jumps off my shoulder and struts off on her own. That gives me about ten minutes before she’s even remotely ready to come back. I stuff the useless leash and harness in my pocket and walk on my own as well. The night is quiet, peaceful, and with a deep breath, I can tell that the morning is going to have a fresh coat of dew on the grass. Nights like these are perfect. Just what I need when I’ve got a lot on my mind.

 

As a professor, students can be pretty easy, but the board itself is demanding. Test scores, grade point averages, lesson plans that fulfill their needs- it can get pretty stressful. Especially when you’re the dumbass who decides to teach five different classes and have to provide excuses every semester that there is a need for your position because fewer and fewer people are signing up for things like Latin. Dead language my ass, that shit is cool. 

 

I can always count on French and German to be steady money for me but honestly, they bore the fuck out of me. Latin, sign and Hebrew are my favorite classes to teach, but nobody else seems to agree. The language of love fits their preference much better.

 

It doesn’t really register in my mind that I’m walking anywhere in particular until a little girl runs past me and I get a shiver down my spine. That stops me dead in my tracks and makes me see the bridge ahead of me. It’s still a good hundred feet in front of me but the sight of it makes me stop. Up against the wall of the bridge is a piece of chunked plywood that I have absolutely no clue where he got, but it serves as the homeless guy’s home. A little lean-to-tent thing he built on the fly between the bridge wall and some bushes. I can see his shoes sticking out of the end of his make-shift shelter and it makes me wonder… when was the last time he moved?

 

I’m standing there like an idiot watching a pair of feet in the distance when Sina scares the shit out of me by swatting at my shins. Her tail is swishing again and she’s looking at me with disdain. Yep. She’s ready to go.

 

“Sorry, girl. My head’s not here tonight” I mutter, looking back to the guy. Sina looks too, finally noticing what’s caught my attention. “C’mon, Sina. Let’s go.”

 

With a shake of my shoulders, I turn and go, leaving the motionless pair of shoes behind me. My hands are shoved in my pockets and my head is tucked down against the wind; I don’t want to bother with anything, I just want to go home. Tonight’s walk did nothing for me and it’s all that stupid hobo’s fault. By the time I make it back to the sidewalk before home, I’m fucking fuming.

 

“C’mon, brat, hurry up.”

 

The leash jingles when I pull it out of my pocket and I turn to hook Sina back up to her harness, but she’s gone. 

 

“Aw, you little shit,” I gripe then raise my hands to my face to call to her. “Sina! Hurry up!”

 

Nothing. 

 

“Sina?”

 

Not even a mewl.

 

My stomach drops and panic starts to cover me when she doesn’t respond. Sina always responds when I call her, no matter what. She knows that I need some sort of assurance that she’s heard me and more than anything, she knows better than to go off without telling me. Something is wrong.

 

“Sina!”

 

My feet are pounding the pavement before I can think to tell them to do so. I’m racing through the park, screaming her name and growing more and more panicky the longer I don’t hear from her. It’s dark, there’s a highway on the other side of this park, and people, as a rule, are assholes who wouldn’t think twice about picking up a cat without a collar. Or worse, let their dogs do it.

 

Sweat is starting to build up under my coat and my throat is raw. It’s starting to be painful to breathe and there’s a stitch in my side from all of my sprinting, but I don’t care. I need my little girl to be safe. I’ve had her for the better half of my life, I’m not losing her for anything or anyone.

 

“Sina!”

 

_ Mreow~ _

 

I heard it. It was small, and it was distant, but I heard it: Sina answered me.

 

“Sina?”

 

She answers again, and the relief from that tiny sound washes over me like a baptism. I bolt straight for it, still calling out her name. She answers in turn and it helps me find her when I run up to the spot she had found me at before, and I stop. There she is, rubbing up against the hobo as he sits cross legged in front of his home. He’s smiling to her softly, and she seems to be eating it up. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. 

 

Sina notices me in the midst of her petting session and meows loudly to me, but makes no effort to come. I’m still in shock at the sight of her, but the adrenalin in my blood from worrying about her forces my feet forward without a thought. The hobo sees me heading his way as well and makes to stand up, struggling a little on the way, but does so in the end and picks up Sina in his arms without complaint. My jaw drops.

 

He meets me a few feet away from his make-shift home and offers Sina to me with a quiet smile. I honestly can’t speak. I’m so busy staring at the guy holding my cat that it takes me a minute to realize that I might be creeping him out and mutter out a thank you to him. He nods silently, then trudges back to his lean-to. I just watch him go, too stunned to move until Sina meows at me and I walk mindlessly back home. I make it all the way back to the apartment before my mind completely breaks.

 

“What the Hell was that?” I hold her out at arm's length to accuse her. “What the Hell was that?!”

 

All I receive in return is a disgruntled meow.

 

“Nuh-uh, little missy,” I hiss, pulling her back into my face. “What the Hell was that all about?”

 

Sina growls at me and wiggles a bit to try and get free, and I have the sense to let her go before I end up with a few more holes in my face. She saunters off on her own without another word. That bitch.

 

Knowing full well that I’m not going to get any answers out of her, all I can do is simmer on my own fuses and lean against the wall, growling into my own hands in frustration. I huff harshly and swipe my hands down my face with a groan before I slowly, angrily start to take off my layers. Something stops me though. Movement in the window.

 

Sina jumped up onto the kitchen window sill and perched herself in a way to stare out at the bridge. The very bridge I had been looking at all night, and the one that I had found her at canoodling with strangers. The sight of her watching over the man beside the bridge makes me stop and think a little more clearly. Sina hates people. But not this guy.

 

Before I can think better about it I’m already digging through my fridge and grabbing the still-warm burritos to stuff in my pockets and head downstairs. Sina’s ears twitch behind her as I leave but she faces the window all the same, never taking her eyes off the guy. Now that she’s noticed him, I doubt she’ll ever stop looking.

 

I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but by the time I make it back to the bridge, it’s too late. I’m already hiking up to his home and squat down beside it to knock on the thin, wooden board he’s found. There’s a bit of shuffling before his head pops out and he seems surprised to see me. Surprised and guarded.

 

“Sina hates people,” I say bluntly. “Hates them. _HATES_. With a fiery, burning passion.”

 

He blinks at me, but says nothing in response. I stare back down at my shoes.

 

“She can barely tolerate a handful of people in this world and I’m one of them.” I shake my head. “I have never, in all her years, ever seen her willingly walk up to anybody outside of my family for affection. Let alone a perfect stranger. So… ” It’s here that I falter, but I dig out the burritos in my pockets and turn to look at him full on. “If Sina thinks you’re good people… then so do I.”

 

He stares at me and the food with large, open eyes, obviously taken aback by this and I’m starting to feel the pressure of his gaze the longer he stares. He seems to notice this and shakes his head back to the real world before offering a smile and waving his hand dismissively at the offering.

 

Now it’s my turn to blink. The guy is obviously hungry. Just one look at his clothes hanging off his frame will tell you that he hasn’t had a proper meal in a good while, but the gleam in his eye is something that I’m unfortunately all too familiar with. He wants it, he really does, but he’s forcing himself not to accept it.

 

“C’mon, man,” I grumble. “I don’t do this sort of thing often. I know you want it so just take it.”

 

At that, he turns away and brushes some stray hair behind his ear, eyes away from me. Why won’t he accept it? His eyes have trouble looking away from the foil in my hands and I can see him swallow back the drool he wants to let out. He’s young looking, maybe no older than I am, but who can tell with all that beard covering his face. The cuts and bruises covering him up don't really help much either. His eyes are pale, like mine. Maybe lighter. There’s disappointment in them as he shakes his head again, and turns away. There’s something else though.

 

Fear. Caution. Defense. This guy doesn’t trust me, and it doesn’t look like he will anytime soon unless I prove myself. Before he can get up and walk away from his own home, I grab onto his arm. He whips his head back and the defense heightens ten-fold, followed closely with aggression. Instantly I let go before he can attack and raise my hand in surrender, but he’s quick to step away and put space between us.

 

“Sorry,” I tell him. “Sorry… I didn’t mean anything by it.”

 

He’s visibly defensive now, standing as tall as he can on his weak legs and scowling at me. It doesn’t feel right on him. His hair is just long enough to be pushed back behind his ears, but the sudden forcefulness of his moves makes it shade his face almost sinisterly. He’s practiced this. Mastered being a guard dog. My eyes study him, and the heartbreaking conclusion of my findings is that he’s had to be this way in order to survive. He’s careful, always careful. Never takes anything from anyone because who knows what will happen then. God knows he could use a helping hand but if that hand were to turn on him, I don’t think he would be surprised.

 

The realization of this dawns on me all at once and slowly at the same time, and without a second thought, my body takes over. My head tilts into thought as I eye him and unwrap a burrito, then slowly bring it to my lips. His eyes never leave me and I can see him swallow again when I take a bite. They flicker between me and the food in my hands, and when I finally swallow, I open my mouth to speak again.

 

“You’re not used to people actually meaning it, are you?”

 

That catches his attention, and his eyes meet mine again. I wait only a moment before I slowly offer the food again. There’s confliction now, but it passes just as quickly as his hands snatch the burrito away from me and he’s chomping down on his food. He’s stuffing bites into his mouth faster than he should be, and I have to tell him to slow down before he gets sick but he ignores me. It’s only a second after I say this that he chokes a bit and coughs into his elbow, turning slightly away, but not enough to keep his back to me.

 

“Easy there, champ,” I tell him. “It’s not like it’s your last meal.” His shoulders drop at that and I want to kick myself for saying something so stupid. He’s homeless for a reason, and since I haven’t seen him move much in the last few days- “ … When was the last time you ate something?”

 

He looks at me then, eyes cautious again. He’s holding his food close to himself as though he’s afraid it’ll leave him if he relaxes, and his shoulders are tense at my presence. He still doesn’t trust me. I shake my head and begin to unwrap the second burrito, ignoring the heaviness of his gaze as he watches me take another bite and hand it over to him. This time he steps closer to me to accept it. Still slowly. Still cautiously. Like a wounded animal. This poor guy.

 

“I’m not asking for anything in return,” I tell him. “But I can make more if you want.” He steps back away from me again, eyes lowered as he eats. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

 

With the last bite of food tucked carefully in his mouth, the guy crumples the foil and stuffs it in his pocket, eyes still turned away from me.

 

“What’s your name?” I ask him quietly, but his eyes lower as his answer. The question goes ignored as he digs into the second burrito, slower this go around. “I can’t even know your name?”

 

Still, he ignores me.

 

“Fine. I’ll just have to give you one, then.” His eyes turn up to me again, questioning, annoyed almost, but I just grin. “You ever hear of Silent Bob?” The suspicion on his face rises up to eleven and the level of doneness he has with me has expired once he gets the joke. Good. He get’s my humor.

 

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Bob.” I can’t help but snicker at that and hold my hand out to him for a shake. “My name’s Jean.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get to know our friend Bob, shall we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta-ed once again. Hopefully I didn't screw up too badly.

 

 

**Chapter 2**

 

Sina runs ahead of me as per usual. I’m used to her going off on her own when we go on our walks, but now I’m starting to get used to the fact that she leaves me in her dust so that she can go see Bob. Yes that’s his name and I’m sticking to it until he corrects me. Even then, I may just use it to be an ass. What are friends for, right? 

 

It’s been a few days since our first encounter and he still hasn’t said a word to me. It makes for some pretty awkward conversation. I’ve made it a point to make extra food each night and bring my dinner outside to eat with him though. He’s still suspicious until I take a bite first, and even then, he sits away from me and eyes me the whole time I’m there.

 

He’s studying me. Watching me. I know that look, and unfortunately, it’s not just something that you pick up naturally overnight. That’s why I don’t mind the cold shoulder. I’m not really known for my patience or social grace, but Bob is different. He doesn’t expect anything from me. He doesn’t expect me to be nice or polite; he’s actively waiting for me to be an ass and turn on him. That, I’m okay with. I already know I’m an ass, so if I slip up, no big deal. All that matters is that I don’t hurt him too bad and keep giving him reasons to trust me.

 

Honestly, if it were any other person, I would have given up by now, but I’m not lying when I say that Sina hates people. Her judge of character has never lead me wrong, and I have never seen her fall so head over heels for a guy so instantaneously in all the years I’ve known her. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have her, but I’ll be hanging on for all I’ve got, and if this guy makes her happy, then so be it. There’s something in him that she deems worthy and important for both of our lives and I’m not going to ignore it.

 

She’s already swirling around his arms when I finally see the bridge. Bob is smiling again as he loves on her, and I’m not gonna lie, the sight of those two together makes my heart go pitter-patter. I’m a sap, okay? Get over it. Bob notices me walking up to him with a bag in hand and his smile drops. It’s okay. He still needs time.

 

I’m almost to Bob’s when I hear it; the bushes rumble. My feet stop, frozen on the spot, and my heart quickens. I can feel a chill over my skin that makes me shudder, but I’m afraid to move much further. The bushes shiver again and I’m drawn to them instantly. I swallow hard but make no sudden moves as I slowly turn to the bush, ready to run if necessary, and my hand makes its way to my pocket to grab my phone. 

 

The hairs on the back of my neck rise when I feel another presence behind me and I’m torn between keeping my eyes on the rustling bushes and looking back, but a quiet meow alerts me of Sina, and the footsteps that follow are friendly. Bob walks up beside me, eyes trained on the bushes as well. He puts his hand on my shoulder and steps in front of me, putting himself between me and the danger and still staring down the bush. 

 

I take this chance to look around for Sina and call her up to my chest, not wanting to risk losing her if the need to run came to be. When I stand back up, Bob tilts his eyes to me and nods his head back toward my apartment.

 

“Are you crazy, I’m not leaving you behind!” I whisper harshly. Bob frowns at this and looks about to try something else when the bushes rattle again, and all three of us snap to it. Fear burns painfully in my gut and I’m not ashamed to admit that I take a step back, but when a pair of squirrels pop out of the bush chasing each other- that. That I’m ashamed to admit I was scared of. I blow out a nervous laugh and hold Sina closer to me as we watch the two rodents fight each other all the way to another bush. “Son of a bitch.”

 

Bob’s shoulders relax as well but his eyes scan the area protectively before he’s satisfied that it’s safe. We pause a moment to stare each other down. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” I say. He smirks at that, then turns to leave, and so do I. We don’t speak again until we’re back in front of his lean-to.

 

“Pasta?” I ask, lifting the bag. “You’re not allergic to Italian, are you?”

 

He pauses a moment but shakes his head. Yes or no questions seem to be my best bet with this guy and I’ll take what I can get. Bob shifts a little to face me better as I shuffle up across from him and plop on the ground, setting the food down between us first. He seems to be getting around better than before. Good. No more wobbly legs. Still though, Bob watches me carefully as I dig out two containers filled with spaghetti and hold them up.

 

“Which one?”

 

He considers for a second before tapping the one in my left hand and I go to open it. The forks are still in the bag and it’s at that moment when I’m sifting through it that Sina decides to sneak a bite from the unguarded container that I’ve left wide open for her.

 

“Hey- no!” She grumbles at me when I smack her head. “That’s not yours, brat.” Bob actually snickers at that and I count it as a victory. I look at him plainly when I finally find the forks. “Do you still want that one? She’s clean but, still.” Bob only shrugs, so I twist the fork in the area she had started eating in and take a bite from whatever she may have contaminated. She’s my cat, don’t judge me.

 

Once the container is safely in Bob’s hands, I move on to my own dish and start chowing down. It’s been a rough day at work and I could definitely use this. Sina meows at me and paws at my leg, making me stop to spoon some of my meat sauce onto the lid of my container and set it on the ground for her. She instantly settles down before the lid and eats contently, twitching the tip of her tail when I stroke a hand down her back. I can’t help but smile at her. Sina may be a brat, but she’s my brat.

 

Bob is quiet, as usual, but I notice him turn his eyes away when I look back up from her. He was studying me again, watching me interact with Sina, maybe even deciding the food was still safe because I fed it to her. If he’s learned anything from me by now it’s how much I love my cat. I won’t let anything happen to her if I can avoid it. Maybe he wonders why…

 

“She was my grandmother’s,” I answer mindlessly, still petting Sina. “I got her when she died a few years ago. Now it's just me and Little Bit, here.” He looks up at that, pausing his chewing but I wave a hand. “Gramma was a feisty old woman, it was her time. But Sina here…”

 

Sina lifts her head to look at me, now finished with her scraps and licking her chops for more. My smile grows and I dig into my own food. “I’ve lived with her since I was seventeen. She’s still got time.” At least I hope.  


 

Bob takes this in, watching as Sina paws at my leg again begging for more meat sauce, but I shoo her away from my dinner. She’s had enough tonight, no more. I clear my throat when a bit of spice tickles me the wrong way and this grabs his attention again, but I shake my head and reach for the bag. Two sodas come out and I’m quick to open one up to rid the feeling in my throat.

 

“Sorry,” I say, then place the opened soda before him. “Wrong pipe.” He nods and tips the can in thanks before taking a sip. “So lemme ask you something because it’s been bothering me for a while.” His eyes are down again but I continue on. “You don’t have to answer but, humor me, will you?”

 

I open the second soda and take a sip before speaking. “What’s with the silent treatment?” He’s frozen now, still staring down at his plate and no longer eating. “Are you actively trying not to talk ‘cause it’s a mental safety thing? Do you just not like to talk?” His eyes soften at that, and I press deeper. “ … Or is it that you can’t?”

 

Now his eyes close- only for a second before he remembers that he can’t take his eyes off me and opens them back up again. He twiddles his fork a little but still keeps his head down, until he shakes his head and his long hair with it.

 

“Mute?”

 

He nods.

 

It’s not even a second before I let my plate go and start signing my fingers in front of him; I’ve never had the chance to use sign language with someone who uses it on the daily and my excitement gets the better of me. Bob flinches back at my quick movements and stares at my hands with complete and utter dumbfoundment. I look to him expectantly, waiting, hoping, begging for a reply but the blank stare he gives me dashes my dreams.

 

“I’m guessing you weren’t born that way,” I sigh heavily. He shakes his head slowly. This earns him a growl. “Way to get my hopes up.” Sina has claimed my dinner as her own and I have to flick her ear to get her out of my container so I can eat again. That does answer a few questions though. Mainly why he’s turned down my job offers. “So it was an accident?”

 

His eyes harden, and the difference is so slight, a normal person wouldn’t be able to tell. 

 

“ … It wasn’t an accident.”

 

He shuffles a bit to sit more comfortably and digs his shoe into the mud. They’re ripping at the sole.

 

“Okay, so you can’t talk, that’s fine.” I shift as well to dig my phone out of my pocket. “Can you read or wri-”

 

Before I can offer my phone to him, Bob slaps his hand over mine. His eyes are hard again, more openly this time as they stare right into mine. The color’s been getting darker lately the more I see him. When I spare a glance, his hand completely covers my phone. His nails are long. My eyes come back to meet his stern ones and he slowly shakes his head.

 

“Okay,” I say quietly. “No phones.” That being said, he carefully let’s go so I can put my phone back in my pocket, but never takes his eyes off of me. “Got a grudge against androids?”

 

He frowns at this, but goes back to his dinner. 

 

“At least it’s not an iPhone,” I chuckle. “Apple was made for evil.”

 

Bob stops for a second, thinks, then looks around himself before reaching over to snag a thick twig. He busies himself with scratching in the mud, and when he’s done, he looks to me expectantly. Well this doesn’t take a genius. Slowly, I lean over and tilt my head to read what he’s written.

 

‘No tech. No cameras.’

 

That makes me frown. “I wasn’t going to take your picture, dude,” I gripe. “I just thought it’d be easier for you to type.” Again, he doesn’t say anything as he eats and just taps at the ‘no camera’ bit in the ground. He doesn’t even bother raising his head. “Conceded much?”

 

That get’s his attention. He glares at me when he rolls his much too thin sleeve up his arm to smother out what he’s written with his hand and picks up the stick again. Damn. His arm is covered in bruises.

 

‘Facial recognition is a thing, you know.’

 

“I stand corrected,” I mutter. “Forget conceded; you’re freaking paranoid.” Bob huff's heavily at that while he wipes his hand in the grass and all I can do is laugh at the reaction. “And so proper! Your literary skills are a thing to be worshiped!” His face drops. He’s so done with my shit. “I’m a professor, can you blame me for being wowed by someone actually giving a damn to write well without begging for a grade?”

 

Now he’s ignoring me, the dope. His hair falls to his face again as he eats and this time, he doesn’t bother shoving it back behind his ear. The last bite of spaghetti leaves a bit of sauce in his beard. I move to grab some napkins from the bag and offer them to him, rubbing my thumb over my own chin in the same area to let him know. Sina’s curled up at my feet now, purring happily as she receives more of my rubs and welcomes sleep.

 

“Guess we better get going,” I mutter, nodding to Sina. “Little Bit here might end up staying the night with you if we don’t.” Bob nods as well and packs up his container in the bag I brought. “I’m going shopping tomorrow, you need anything?”

 

He stops suddenly and looks to me again. I look back to him plainly. I know he doesn’t expect this. After a moment, he shakes his head and goes to stand so he can head back home too.  I stand as well and gather up my things. “You sure? It’s supposed to be cold tonight.” He shakes his head, eyeing his lean-to shack. I don't buy it. “Here.” Before he can stop me I already have my hoodie off and toss it at him. He's looking at me like I'm nuts and tries to give it back to me but I'm already backing away. “Nope. It's yours now. You'll never survive without it.”

 

Bob still frowns and holds it up to me to take it back. “Dude, you act like I don't have more at home. Just keep it, it's a gift.” That seems to get him, but he still frowns when he tugs it over his head. I can already see the goosebumps leaving his neck. “Alright, my offer stands if you need anything. Stay warm, okay? I’ll see you later.”

 

Bob nods, still eyeing his plywood and burrowing into his hoodie. When Sina meows at him, he finally faces us to wave us goodbye for the night. Sina follows at my heel as I head back home, but I don’t stop in time to make myself face forward. Bob visibly sags in front of his home. I know that sag in his shoulders. I know that sigh. He silently kneels down to crawl back under his plywood and settle in for the night while I turn back to head home.

 

.

.

.

 

It’s a busy day for me, so I don’t really have time for a home-cooked meal tonight. The board called for an emergency meeting and I was dragged in against my will because winter was on it’s way and the chance of the campus shutting down for a snow day was cause enough for everyone to lose their shit and bark out orders for people to have backup plans should the need arise. Normally it's not a big issue, but normal people only have one or two classes. Not this idiot, oh no, I just had to go and teach five. Five completely different classes that require completely different backup plans for any ONE situation. God forbid there be more.

 

It’s getting dark by the time I’m walking home, exhausted from all the bullshit. McDonald's isn't the most glamorous of choices but, it's quick and on the way home, plus with my arms full of the groceries that I finally had the time to go shopping for, it's not something I have to worry about spilling. Plastic sacks hang off my limbs around the box I’m holding, and even though the walk from the store is short, I still can’t keep from griping about the pain under my breath. 

 

The streets are full of too many people at this hour. I’ve gotten spoiled from leaving earlier than this but come on; this is ridiculous. There’s a sudden chill through my body when a little boy races past me, and I have to stop for a second to try and keep my pile from toppling over. Fucking winter, man.

 

Bob is nowhere to be seen by the time I pass by the park. His lean-to is empty and my thoughts from last night about him being too cold hop back up into the forefront of my mind. The fact that his home is empty rather than stuffed full of frozen corpse is enough to ease my nerves from the thoughts. Just barely. It’s cold, I’m tired and my arms hurt from carrying all this shit, so rather than waiting around for Bob to show up, I drop off his burger and the box just at the opening of his home and carry on my way. 

 

By the time I have all of my groceries put away and I’m showered and ready for bed, I finally spot him from my kitchen window. Moreover, I spot Sina spotting him from the kitchen window. Bob looks just about dead on his feet. Haggard and worn out, but he walks on to his lean-to. Until he sees the box.

 

Instantly, his shoulders tense and his eyes never leave the box. His hand goes to his pocket to pull out- holy shit, he’s got a switchblade. I press up a little closer to the window to watch as he creeps up slowly to the box. He has nothing to worry about but he doesn’t know that. I think my heart just broke a little.

 

He’s ready, blade at his side and crouched for attack when he quickly flips open the box and takes a step back. Even from here, I can see confusion in his form. His blade lowers slowly as he realizes the box not to be a threat and shifts closer to peer inside. Atop the sleeping bag is a note with my chicken scratch on it, and it takes a moment to register what’s written. He pulls out the sleeping bag only to find a pair of thick socks, a coat, travel shaving kit, toothbrush and paste, first aid kit, nail clippers, dry shampoo, towelettes, combs- everything I could think of. I even put in a beginner's guide book to sign language if he's interested. I wouldn't mind teaching him one bit.

 

Bob stops sifting through his new possessions to simply stare at them, then the note that accompanied them. His back is mostly turned to me, but I see his head drop. Slowly, so very slowly, he picks up the nearest thing available and hugs the new pair of boots close to his chest. His shoulders are shaking.

 

It’s at this moment that I decide to step away. This is Bob’s moment. He needs this about as badly as he needed those clothes. He’s roughly the same size as me, so hopefully everything fits. He’s not the only one who’s been studying the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you I was bad at updates. I've been hit with a bit of writer's block for a while; there's just so much going on rn, and for that I'm sorry. At least I got my 2x a month quota, haha. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Also, all I had was Google Translate. Halp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New characters and some insight on the ones you've already met :)  
> Lore, languages and- dare I say it- love? Let's find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: there is mention of blood and violence in this chapter as well as panic attacks and scarring. It starts with a nightmare and how Jean deals with it/the panic attack afterwards. I've marked the beginnings of the nightmare with one * and ending the scene of the panic attack with two **. I'll try to keep this technique in mind for future scenes as well but please take care of yourself when reading.
> 
> Also, I'm still learning the ropes in posting chapters/stories in general on AO3 so my style is going to change some the more that I learn. Will I go back and fix it? Who knows? We'll find out next time, on Dragon Ball Z!

 

 

\---

**Chapter 3**

\---

*

Running, panting, ripping, growling, screaming. Can’t get away, can’t fight, can’t, can’t, no, no, no, no, let me go. Can’t breathe, blood, so much blood, ripping, ripping, no, no, no. Pain, no, pain everywhere, pain no, teeth, blood, help me, please help me, make it stop. Claws, teeth, blood, my blood, no, no, no. Make it stop, make it stop, makeitstopmakeitstophelpme, help me, help me please! Screaming, growling, laughter, why laughter, pain, hurts, no, please, please, please help me please, STOP!

 

There’s panic engulfing me from head to toe by the time my eyes mercifully snap open and I jolt away from my nightmares. Hands claw at my neck and shoulder and come back slick, making my panic skyrocket until I recognize it as sweat, but the damage is done, it’s too late, and the dreams were too strong. My body has already been shaking harshly and it just gets worse and I can’t breathe, I’m panting and sucking in as much air as I can but I can’t breathe, I can’t, I can’t bre- I can’tIcan’tI-

 

** Mew~

 

Sina walks delicately over my lap and presses herself against my chest. The purrs that rumble from her tiny little body radiate through my own and my arms go to wrap around her. Air, sweet, sweet air. Sina nuzzles under my chin, still purring, still meowing, allowing me to cling on to her with my shaking limbs and presses firmly against me as my anchor to the real world. Breathe in, breathe out. It’s just a dream. Just a dream.

 

It’s been several minutes but my body keeps shaking. I can breathe now, that’s a plus, but I’m not ready to face the day. Sina waits for me patiently, still purring against my skin. It’s times like these when I’m most grateful for her. 

 

Finally, about ten minutes before my alarm goes off, I’ve settled down enough to stand up without any problems. Sina stays close to me, making sure her fur brushes against the side of my calf with each step as I make my way to the bathroom and splash some cold water over my face. When she’s sure she won’t get splashed, she hops up onto the sink and then to my shoulder, still purring loudly in my ear. I scratch hers as a thank you but catch sight of my scars in the process.

 

Despite how hot I am I force a light jogging jacket on to cover them up, making Sina jump off my shoulder just long enough to do so. Since I’m up now, there’s really no need to try sleeping again. I wouldn’t really want to anyway. Sina replaces herself on my shoulder and rides along to the kitchen. She knows I need it and I’m comforted by this fact. Unfortunately, she’s had lots of practice. 

 

Sina stays with me through breakfast, the morning news and even waits for me in the bathroom while I shower, but eventually, it’s time for me to go to work. I’m still not ready for it, and she knows it. She watches me carefully as I layer on my winter gear. Silently judging me as I pile it on.

 

“I can’t call out because I had a bad dream,” I tell her. “I’ll be fine, stop worrying.”

 

Merr.

 

“I know, I know, stop it.” My scarf is finally tied around my neck and I take the chance to turn around and huff at her. “I’m going to work to make money which buys our food. Do you want me to stop giving you scraps? I can keep them for myself, you know.”

 

She snorts at that.

 

“Good; glad we’ve come to an understanding.” I throw my satchel over my shoulder and reach for the handle of my front door, but somehow can’t bring myself to turn it just yet. Sina walks up to me then and slings herself through my legs. More physical contact. More assurance. I lean over to pick her up and hold her close to me, scratching her ears affectionately. 

 

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper. “Promise. Thanks for lookin’ out for me.” I may or may not have pushed a kiss behind her ear before I set her back down on the floor and head out for work.

 

Coffee is a must for my line of work and it just so happens that there’s a cart just on the other side of my building. I don't even mind that it's out of the way, that shit is good. I end up getting my usual but as of late, I’ve been getting something else for Bob. I don’t know what he likes, he still hasn’t told me, so it’s kind of a guessing game until I can either figure him out or he tells me. Here’s hoping he likes  cheese danishes and mocha-flavored coffee.

 

Bob is another thing out of my way. Before, I would hardly ever see him when I passed through the park because it was faster to just go around. Nowadays, I find that walking through it in order to see Bob isn't such a bad thing. It's peaceful, relaxing, and after my morning, it's something I need.

 

I'm coming up to the bridge by the time I'm halfway through with my own danish and am quick to spot out the sleeping bag sticking out of the end of Bob's shelter. This slows me down a step. The closer I get, the more I can see the silent lump underneath the covers. As quietly as I can, I set down the cup holder and food near the opening of his lean-to and catch sight of messy, dark hair poking out of the top of the sleeping bag. Right next to his head, tucked protectively in the corner, is a new backpack stuffed to the brim with his belongings.

 

It's still early, the sun's barely up and only idiots like myself have to get up before the break of dawn but this; seeing him sleeping peacefully instead of curled up in a ball… getting up early enough to see that makes it all worthwhile. I can't help but smile as I leave Bob's place and head off for work.

 

.

.

.

 

“Ich brauche Wegbeschreibungen zum Gasthaus.” I’m writing on the board as I speak. “Who can translate that for me?” I turn around to see Mina with her hand raised. 

 

“I need directions to the hotel?” she asks.

 

“Close; it was an inn, not a hotel. Good job. Mr. Wagnar.” He jumps up from drooling in his textbook. “Können Sie mir helfen, Herr?”

 

Now come the doe eyes. He’s panicking in the middle of the road with a semi chasing him down and I’m behind the wheel. Wouldn’t be so bad if he were paying attention.

 

“Uh, oui?” 

 

Aw, he’s desperate.

 

“Wonderful, Mr. Wagnar,” I say and he perks at that. “If you were in my French class.”

 

The class chuckles at my sarcasm and I can see Thomas dwindling down into his book with a scowl but if he’s going to waste my time, I really don’t give a shit to spare his feelings. Freshmen. I fucking swear. 

 

“That’s it for the review,” I announce and begin wiping down the board. “Please clear your desks of everything but a pencil and get ready for the quiz. When you’re done, you can leave for the day.”

 

My assistant, Eren, hops up from his desk as I’m erasing the board and eagerly begins handing out the quiz to each of the students. He’s been bored stiff all morning but again, I really don’t care. As long as he picks up where I leave off, he could dance naked on a surfboard for all I care. 

 

Eren may be an annoying sausage with no class in his system whatsoever, but he does his job well as my teaching assistant. Gives me time to worry about my other classes- and it doesn’t hurt to have a German kid work my German classes. While he’s taking care of the students, I plop myself down behind my desk and pull out the paperwork from my other classes. At least now I have some time to look over their work.

 

Each student finishes their quiz and hands it in to Eren before they leave and he works feverishly to get it done quickly. I, on the other hand, have too many essays to read. Why do I do this to myself? By the time the class is empty, I’m barely through with even half of the pile I need to get through.

 

“You need more assistants,” Eren says unhelpfully. “I can’t help you with those.”

 

“No, really?” I snark. “And here I thought I could give you the Hebrew class as extra credit.”

 

“You don’t have to bite my head off.” Eren scowls at that. “You can be such an ass, sometimes.”

 

“I’m an ass all the time, get it right,” I correct him. “And I wouldn’t have to be if you would stop stating the obvious. You get those quizzes done?”

 

“Now who’s stating the obvious?” He’s already packing his things to leave as he huffs out his response. “Of course I did, they’re posted online and everything.” He actually sounds offended by this and knowing Eren, he probably is. “You might learn something from me and grade your assignments one at a time too.”

 

“You know, you’re right,” I say. “Let me just take every single one of my student’s four-thousand word essays and read them all in under a minute. That’s a genius plan, why didn’t I think of that? I mean it’s only a little over a couple hundred people between all of the classes, no big deal.”

 

“Asshole,” Eren grumps. “You shouldn’t be complaining when it’s your own damn fault for signing on with that many people.”

 

“Watch it, brat, I’m still your teacher, don’t go cursing me out.” 

 

“HA! You first!”

 

I don’t know why I always end up fighting with the guy, he just ends up pushing my buttons one way or another. We’re only a few years apart in age but I’m the one with the degrees and credentials. Whether his ideas are right or not, nine times out of ten they’re things I’ve already thought of and don’t need his opinion on. He’s just lucky that Armin walks in when he does.

 

“Professor Kirstein? Did you get my email about the legend from Minnesota?” He stops when he sees the irritable expressions Eren and I are sporting. “Who won this round?”

 

“I did.” Eren doesn’t even miss a beat.

 

“Bull, you haven’t won anything,” I snip. Then, to Armin. “I got your email about the Wendigo, but I think I have something that can top that.” I scoot aside the essays from each class in order to pull up my laptop and my notes along with it. “The Salt Witch of Nebraska.”

 

“An actual witch?!”

 

I knew that would get him.

 

“That’s another thing, Kirstein,” Eren gripes. “If you’ve got so many classes backing up your free time then why bother with the Lore Club?”

 

“Uh, because legends are amazing?” Armin tries helpfully while he comes around my desk to stand beside me, still flailing his hands as he speaks. “C’mon, Eren, in every legend there’s a bit of truth.”

 

Eren’s scowl deepens. “What could possibly be truthful about a witch? And why salt? Does she rule over fries and chips too?”

 

“Salt was pretty important at the time.” Here’s where my teacher mode kicks in. “I haven’t had much of a chance to properly research it all just yet but from what I’ve gathered, early Americans documented their rations pretty harshly and would give some to Native Americans on a closely measured scale- if they even would at all. So what I’m thinking is the chief who told this story did so to protect the salt stacks he found and scare off anyone who might be tempted to take some. That, or he was hallucinating in the desert- but the rest of his tribe believed him enough to actually start beating the ground when they harvested their salt in order to keep the witch from causing any more trouble.”

 

“Okay, that is cool,” Armin breathes as he’s reading over my shoulder. “I think you beat me this week, Jean.”

 

“Because I didn’t get my legend from Dean Winchester,” I snicker right back. 

 

He doesn’t even deny it but hums out hungrily instead. “Believe me, if I were to ask Dean Winchester for anything, it wouldn’t be lore.” I can hear Eren gagging behind us and it just makes my smile grow wider. “At least I didn’t do Bloody Mary like Charles did.”

 

“Ugh.” I physically shiver. “I hate that one, it’s so overused. I specifically said Native American for that exact reason. I knew it was bound to come up either way though. Next week I was thinking Asian; maybe Chinese.”

 

“That’d be good,” Armin agrees. “I’d love to check up on some dragons.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eren sighs.

 

Now it’s my turn to scowl. “Is it so terrible to have a hobby? We like lore, what’s so wrong about that?”

 

Eren snorts. “It’s a waste of time.  _ Honestly _ .” He turned to Armin. “I’m surprised someone as smart as you would fall for those sorts of fairy tales.”

 

“Not the Wendigo,” Armin grins. “Those guys were created by cannibalism.”

 

All of the color seems to fade from Eren’s face. “Really?”

 

Armin nods to him, his grin still in place. “Every legend has some truth,” he repeats. “You just have to take it with a grain of salt.” With that, he winks, and Eren groans in frustration.

 

“Why do I hang out with you?”

 

I’m about to make a smart remark of my own when my alarm goes off to tell me to go home. “Hate to break up the party, boys, but I’ve gotta run. My destiny awaits.” With the read half of essays tucked underneath the pile I still have to read, I stuff everything I need into my satchel and get ready to leave. “See you in Latin tomorrow?”

 

Armin smiles. “Bright and early.”

 

“Good.” I throw my bag over my shoulder. “Because I need another assistant. Hurry your ass up and get through this semester so you can help me out.”

 

That get’s a laugh out of him. “I’m learning as fast as I can, Jean.”

 

I love it when he says my name. I hate being so formal around friends.

 

Eren heads for the door, more than ready to leave but Armin lingers. His hands are gripping his shoulder strap in that bashful, nervous thing he does but still smiles brightly at me. The contrast is confusing, but you get used to it after a while.

 

“You'll keep me posted about the next lore assignment, won't you? I wouldn't mind helping you get that started.” He tucks some hair behind his ear. “I figured we could sit down and go over it together sometime.”

 

“Sure!” I smile right back at him. “That'd be a big help, actually. You have any time to text about it later?”

 

For the smallest moment, those bright, blue eyes falter, but Armin smiles all the wider. “Yeah, just text me first and I'll get on.” He dips his head for a nod and waves as he starts backing out. “Night, professor.”

 

Eren is scowling at me from the door where he waits for his friend and shakes his head when Armin passes before closely following after. Once they're gone, I make sure the place is tidy enough before locking up and heading out myself. It’s getting too late for a home-cooked meal again and to be honest, I’m exhausted. If Armin had enough credits in my Latin class, I wouldn’t think twice about letting him be my assistant, but the board needs proof that he’s actually brilliant. Stuffy bastards.

 

The only reason Eren got the job for my German class was because he was raised in a household who spoke it fluently. His genetics are saving my ass. I need all the help I can get and Armin is actually someone I can tolerate. With me being so young, though, it makes it difficult to back me up as a distinguished scholar and have the ability to pull strings when I need them.

 

I’m not going to lie, I got this job out of sheer luck. My grandmother was a language professor for Yale and through her legacy, I was able to bullshit my way through to this community Hell-hole. It’s not much, but it let’s me do what I like and gives me a comfortable life. Adding on all of the other language classes was my brilliant idea of proving myself as a man who could stand on his own, but it’s only gotten more eyes on me. I can’t really screw anything up at this point unless I want to lose it all. It’s a lot of pressure- but then Armin swooped in and helped me with an outlet.

 

Hosting the Lore club was his idea. I don’t know how, but he seemed to know that those sorts of things are a passion of mine, so when he asked me to be the sponsor/director for his new club he’s making, he knew he had me hooked the moment he mentioned ghosties. We’ve gotten closer since we started the club and in all honesty, I’d trust him with a lot more than just my school work. He’s my right hand man. Plus he knows how to shut that yammering sausage up like nobody else. What’s not to like?

 

It’s almost dark when I finally make it to the park but a heaviness across my shoulders makes me stop. I know this feeling: someone’s watching me. Hard. A quick look around shows me nothing. I turn around more, still feeling the eyes on me and growing restless because of it. I’ve always been able to feel people’s gaze, no matter how trivial. Gramma always said it was a gift I should cherish; something that I’ve come to agree on when I needed it most. Not being able to track down the eyes on me now, though, makes me nervous. 

 

Just as suddenly as it appeared, the weight upon my skin lifted, and I was alone again. Fan-fucking-tastic. I turned around a bit more, still looking for the invisible being that decided to check me out and ended up with jack-shit. So, rather than dwelling on it like a sitting duck, I booked it out of there.

 

I’ve got a pizza in one hand and an essay in the other because I’m just the smartest guy in the world, so when a biker rides past me and clips my shoulder just outside of the park’s bathrooms, it’s obviously his fault. The guy rides off without even checking to see if I’m okay and my pizza goes flying with the handful of papers I had, but then my satchel goes and decides to bust open when I fall as well and spit out a few more essays. This is why I need to go paperless. Damn it.

 

I’m swearing up a storm and trying to snatch all of my students works before the wind can carry them off when someone comes along from out of the bathroom to help me pick them up. It’s the first bit of relief I’ve had all evening, actually. “Thanks,” I tell the guy and nod my appreciation. He smiles in return but I’m too busy stuffing the papers back in my bag to notice. It’s not until he hands me the pizza box that I finally get a good look at him. “Holy shit-”

 

Bob chuckles at my reaction and his smile stays as I scrutinize his now beardless face. He’s got freckles on his cheeks. Holy shit. His hair is no longer a scruffy mess but is combed and pulled back loosely in a little half ponytail. It looks so soft, I want to play with it. There’s not enough hair to make it a full ponytail and his bangs slip out here and there, but it’s enough to show his eyes. His fucking, gorgeous eyes. What was once a pale amber is now a light brown, almost the same shade as his skin, and they sparkle with contentment. Holy shit. 

 

“I didn’t even recognize you,” I say dumbly. He only smiles brighter. His broad shoulders are now covered in a more season appropriate coat, and when I look down, the boots I got him are tied neatly onto his feet. “How does it all fit?” He holds a thumb up, his smile still in place. Fuck. “Good. I figured you’d be a little bigger than me but if I got anything wrong, I can take it back for a different size.” 

 

Bob shakes his head and stands with me to head over to his place. He’s carrying the little toiletry kit under his arm, and I can see he’s stuffed it with his shaving stuff and toothbrush. The little first aid kit is in there too, and judging by the fresh band-aids he's wearing, I'd say he got a good use out of that as well. He’s still smiling. I’m so lost in staring at him that it doesn’t dawn on me to check on the pizza until he points to it.

 

“Oh, shit.” It had landed upside down, so I’m not looking forward to finding all of my cheesy goodness stuck to the lid. When I crack it open to peek inside, my suspicion is confirmed and I huff out a sigh. “Great.”

 

Bob offers a sympathetic scoff, then digs around in his pocket for a notepad and permanent marker. When he’s done writing, he hands it to me to read.

 

‘We can still scrape it off the top. At least it was somewhat cold so it didn’t completely disintegrate on impact.’

 

“Yeah, there’s that,” I mutter, handing back the notepad. “I don’t care, it’s still edible.” Bob nods in agreement. “Also, kosher. I hope you don’t mind chicken.” He cocks a brow at this and scribbles again.

 

‘Jewish?’

 

“When I wanna be,” I grin right back. He shakes his head at me and flips the page of his notebook to reply.

 

‘Never had chicken pizza before. This should be interesting.’

 

“It’s not as bad as people think,” I tell him. “Plus, I make it so that it’s kind of like a fajita pizza.” There goes that cocked brow again. “Green peppers, red onions and diced tomatoes.” He nods, contemplating. “Also black olives because why the fuck not?” I get a snort out of that.

 

Before we can make it to Bob’s lean-to he points out one of the park’s picnic areas and leads the way to a table. Once we sit down, I drop the pizza open to examine the damage. “Okay, we can make this work.” 

 

Bob was right when he said that it was cold enough to survive. The thick layer of cheese I had requested ended up sticking in one giant piece on the lid, which worked out in my favor. As carefully as I could, I scraped the circle of toppings off to slap it back on the crooked pie.

 

“There. All better.”  Bob just snorts. The first slice I tug on has to be jiggled around a bit so that the toppings stay with it but I manage to get it out just fine and take a bite out of it. “Yup. All better.”

 

I offer the slice to Bob and he accepts so that I can start eating as well. Guess I’ve still got some ways to go before we can skip the whole poison checking phase, but I don’t care. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve made great progress because he hasn’t stopped smiling since I bumped into him. It’s amazing what getting cleaned up will do for your psyche. Makes you feel human again.

 

We eat in silence for a few minutes but I can tell something is on his mind. His smile is dwindling, and I can see his eyes working out a problem, but I don’t push it. I’ll let him come to me. When he finally does, he slides his notebook over.

 

‘Thank you.’

 

“No problem,” I say, shaking my head. “It’s pretty rare when I can split a pizza with someone. Nobody shares my extensive taste.”

 

He scoffs out a laugh but shakes his head.

 

‘That’s not what I meant.’

 

“I know what you meant, but I’m going to ignore it.” I take another bite of my pizza. “There’s no point in being thanked for being a decent human being. It should be customary.” His shoulders drop and I can see more thoughts racing behind his eyes. “I won’t accept your thanks for things you need to survive.”

 

I can see my explanation sinking in, and after a moment, he looks to the table and pulls something out of his pocket. I ignore this as well and reach over to grab another slice, but he slides a piece of paper in my direction. When I look at it closely, it’s the note I put with his things.

 

‘It’s not just Sina who likes you. It's way too easy to fall down on your luck so if you need anything, just ask, stupid.’

 

Bob catches my eye before he reaches over again and taps under the part that says ‘It’s too easy’ and he looks to me with questions in his eyes. The food in my hands has never looked more interesting as I look for an excuse to keep away from his eyes. I know what he’s asking. I just don’t want to think about it. Not yet, at least. 

 

“I wasn’t always as well off as I am now,” I give him. “Let’s just say there’s a reason Sina’s the only family I have left.”

 

With that, I hand over the bitten pizza for him to finish and reach for another, my eyes down. He’s not the only one who needs time. Bob scribbles down more words for his end of the conversation and pushes the notepad over to me. Relief rushes through me when he seems to understand that I don’t want to go down memory lane right now.

 

‘No Sina today?’

 

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m beat. She’s gonna kill me for not coming with her tonight but I just can’t make two or three trips out here right now. I’ll let her slip out the window later tonight or something.”

 

‘Long day?’

 

“You could say that.” I take a second to wipe my mouth. “I did it to myself for having too many classes but, I just can’t say no to some of these bad boys.”

 

‘What do you teach?’

 

“Different languages. Officially, I teach five.”

 

‘And unofficially?’

 

This makes me smirk, and I can’t help the bit of pride swelling in my gut as I pause to swallow my bite. “Unofficially, I know about eight languages and I’m working on a few more.” Bob’s eyes widen at a comical level. “What can I say? I really love languages. It’s kind of my hobby.”

 

‘That’s a pretty impressive hobby.’

 

“Only if it’s hard,” I mutter. “Languages have always been easy for me. It was something I did for myself, but then my Gramma found out and started teaching me more. It was fun.”

 

Bob finishes his second slice and I set mine down to bite another piece for him. While I’m doing that, he writes out more.

 

‘What all do you know?’

 

“Um…” Well, crap. Now I have to think. There’s just so many, I’ve kind of lost count. “Spanish, obviously, I took that in middle school.” I’m looking to the sky as I count off my fingers and think. 

 

“French, German- mom and dad made me do those. Arabic, Hebrew- had to do that before my bar mitzvah, American Sign, that was fun, uh, Gaelic, that got me a few red-heads.” I smirk devilishly at that. “Oh, and Latin. Can’t believe I almost forgot my favorite.” I laugh. “I’m almost done with Korean and have started working on Japanese next; Mandarine will be after that. I think those will be fun too.”

 

Bob is looking at me in complete astonishment and again, I can’t help but smile with pride.

 

‘How do you have time for all of that?’

 

“I don’t,” I scoff. “I barely have enough time to breathe. I have a few teaching assistants who can help out with German and French but other classes like Hebrew and Sign, I’ve got to do all on my own.” I lift up my satchel to drop it heavily atop the table. “This bad boy here is full of Hebrew essays that I have to read and I’m not sure I can get it all done tonight. Then I have to do the exact same thing for Latin next week!” Bob is staring at my bag and chewing slowly. He’s thinking, I can tell, so I wait for him to write down what it is he wants to know.

 

‘You need an assistant with Latin too?’

 

“Well, yeah, but it’s not going to happen,” I blink. “The board won’t let me have who I want because he’s ‘not fluent’ and he doesn’t have enough credits.” I use my fingers to air quote the boards words. “Let’s be honest here, nobody is interested in a dead language except for the choir kids I get who think it’ll help them understand the music better and there’s not a household alive with anyone who speaks it fluently, so until my guy passes the next semester, I’m stuck.”

 

He’s thinking again.

 

‘What if you actually had someone who spoke it fluently; would they allow it then?’

 

“Again: dead language. You’re killing me, bro.” I’m snickering through another bite when he passes over his response and I almost choke.

 

‘Non credis quia mortuus est.’

 

I’m speechless. Gaping at his scribbles like a dying fish and he’s just sitting there eating his dinner like he hasn’t dropped an atomic bomb in my lap, the bastard. I can’t even form a proper sentence and he knows it because he’s chewing his food with a bored look on his face but his eyes- his fucking eyes are eating this up. That. Bastard.

 

“How fluent are we talking here?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> =============================================
> 
> Can you help me, sir? = Können Sie mir helfen, Herr?
> 
>  
> 
> Non credis quia mortuus est. = It is not as dead as you believe.
> 
>  
> 
> Halp. I only have Google Translate.
> 
> =============================================
> 
>  
> 
> Baw, I didn't update in March at all, I'm so sorry T-T
> 
> I promise I'll make it up to you but March was pretty busy for me. SHINee had their first ever REAL concert in America instead of a fanmeet (which I also love dearly) and I had to plan things out with people so we could all go, then Comicon happened and I had to plan that out as well. Not to mention working full time and doctor appointments and I'm right in the middle of a move and trying to write way too many things at one alongside editing my book and life in general- it was all one big, freaking mess. I promise I'll do better.
> 
> Also, keep in mind that I only have Google Translate to help me with this. If I'm wrong in anything not-English please: save me. I'd appreciate it ;]


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming out has one of two outcomes: Relief, or heartbreak.   
> Then there's the third option that is often forgotten: Anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on a ROLL today! Not only did I post several chapters in the new Fresh Out of Water story, but I got this one done tonight too. WHOO, I feel good :D

 

\---

**Chapter 4**

\---

 

“Here, listen to this one,” I chuckle. “She went to Yosemite for spring break her freshman year of high school and went skiing with her aunt, but she had no idea that she needed sunscreen in the mountains.” Bob slaps a hand over his mouth with horror dripping from his eyes as I pick up the essay to translate it out loud. 

 

“‘I ended up with third degree burns on my face and still have a scar under my chin from the sunburn itself. The worst part of it all though? I was wearing sunglasses so I looked like a raccoon until the tan went away. Two months later.’”

 

Now Bob’s hand slides up over his eyes as he laughs a silent, breathy laugh at my poor student’s misfortune. I shiver when I feel weight against my back and look over my shoulder, but find nothing but bushes. I shake my head and turn back to Bob, enjoying his laughter for all its worth. Without a voice, all I can hear is his air, but even that is enough of a reason to get me to smile. With Sina sleeping peacefully in my lap, that’s reason number two.

 

The essays were an assignment I had issued to my Latin class asking them to tell me a story in Latin about something that had happened to them in high school. With each new story, I got to learn more about my students, but the fun ones let me see Bob smile, and that is a personal mission of mine, so. Mission accomplished.

 

Bob pulls himself together enough to get back to reading his own essay, but a few minutes later, he snorts and shoves it to me, pointing to where he wanted me to read.

 

‘In the end, we created a human catapult and I wound up getting launched in the courtyard. Nearly broke my face but it was worth every second.’

 

“Oh my God,” I snicker. 

 

Bob chuckles as well and pushes his notebook to me.

 

‘How did she even make a human catapult?’

 

I shake my head. “No idea, but I’m going to have to ask her now.” 

 

Bob laughs, but it's cut short when something snaps in the bushes behind me. We each go rigid, Sina’s hackles go wild and I move to stand from my seat slowly. “If it's those damn squirrels again, I swear…” But it's not. There's nothing there, and after a minute or two I finally sit back down, but the weight on my skin doesn’t leave. “One of these days, we're not going to jump at rodents.” I say, shaking my head.

 

Bob doesn't react. He's still stiff and scanning the area carefully; watching. Finally, he shakes his head as well and starts scribbling again with a forced smile. He's almost used that thing up already. Makes me wonder. “How's the sign language coming?”

 

That stops him, and he looks up to me with large, confused eyes for a split second before he understands what I've asked and he goes sheepish. He scratches out what he was writing before and flips the page to start anew.

 

'Slowly. It’s a little different learning from pictures rather than from words.’

 

A chuckle slips out from that. “I don't mind teaching you if you'd like,” I tell him. “Do you even want to learn?”

 

Bob jumps up and becomes frantic as his eyes- a warm brown now- go wide, not sure what to respond to first and the sight of his hands flailing about while he tries to figure it out is hilarious. He pouts- fucking pouts when I laugh at him, and snatches his notepad again. It takes a minute or two for him to finish and he even has to flip to a new page, but when he's done, he presents it to me with a firm look.

 

'You’ve done more than enough for me already. Thanks for the offer but no, I don't want you teaching me. You should spend your free time doing something that you enjoy. 

 

‘Besides, you said so yourself that you're swamped; especially with exams coming up. As it is, you don't have any spare time to teach someone who can't even begin to pay you back. 

 

‘And before you say anything, shut it. I WILL pay you back for everything the first chance I get, don't think I won't. That's non-negotiable.  

 

‘I do want to learn, though. I just… it's different. I'm not used to learning on my own. I'll figure it out though. I want to actually talk with you someday.’

 

There's a warmth filling my chest at that last part and I have to pretend to keep reading so that I can stop it. When I look back up to him, he still has that firm face and he nods as if to confirm it. I can't help but shake my head and snicker to the table. 

 

“First of all, I actually like teaching, otherwise I wouldn't bother doing it. In fact, I don't waste any of my time doing stuff that I don't enjoy unless it's absolutely necessary. You know, like, bills and stuff.” He smirks at that, but let's me continue. 

 

“Same goes for my time with you. I said from the start that I don't want anything in return but, at this point I'll call bull shit on that.” He sits up a little taller at that and nods. “All I want is your time, dude. Anything else that you think is part of this whole 'non-negotiable’ bit, you can hit me with later. I can wait as long as you're around. Deal?”

 

He smiles again, this time more genuine and playful, then nods agreement and extends a hand to seal the deal. With that out of the way, Bob took back the paper he was reading and sat back in his seat to finish grading it, pausing a moment to circle something with the red pen I gave him and still chuckling. I go back to my own essay and grin at it, not really able to read at the moment.

 

Last week, Bob had agreed to help me grade the Latin essays after my class had turned them in and for that, I was ecstatic. When he refused to come to campus, however, I was a little less so. His fear of cameras kept him from going anywhere public that might have security at all, so we compromised. After our nightly dinner routine just before the sun set, Bob and I sat down at the picnic table to split the essays right down the middle. This was a lot more fun than just me reading by myself, I must say. 

 

If I could get away with it with Armin, I probably would have done it this way months ago. With the board though, if he had gotten caught, he may have been expelled from campus, lost his credits and most definitely his scholarship. Forget what would have happened to me, Armin doesn't deserve that happening to him. I couldn't risk his safety like that. So, now that I've got Bob to do this with me, I can't help but prefer it. This is much more comfortable. Keeping it a secret from the board and anyone else for that matter kind of makes it fun, too.

 

Bob finishes with the Catapult story and moves on to the next one. My skiing disaster has some spelling errors and I can clearly see where she copy and pasted from a translate website and have to take a few extra moments pointing that out with my own red pen before I can move on. As I’m writing, though, Bob’s smile dwindles, and he’s concentrating hard on the paper in his hand.

 

“What’s wrong?” I ask, breaking him from the paper. He shakes his head, but points to the essay, still frowning as he scribbles in his notebook.

 

‘It’s his Coming Out story.’

 

Now my smile is gone. Well, any attempt of one is. I don’t even know what my face looks like but Bob is writing again as though he wants me to lighten up a bit.

 

‘It turns out okay, but he just sounds so scared even writing about it.’

 

“Well, coming out is a big thing,” I say. My shoulders drop, and I bite my lip in thought, searching the ground. “I’d like to read that one, actually. I feel kinda crappy that you got it instead of someone he trusted to keep quiet about it.” Bob catches my eye but I shrug away his curious glance. “It’s the moment of your life where you find out who really loves you. Not something you really want to take lightly.”

 

‘You sound like you have experience.’

 

I nod, but keep my attention to the papers in my hands. “Gramma was fine with me liking both guys and girls.” Now my grin is back as I think about her and chuckle as the wind rustled the bushes and trees around us. It sends another shiver down my spine. “She just never liked who I brought home.”

 

The slap of papers on the table grabs my attention and I look up to see Bob staring harshly in my direction.

 

“What?” I ask, but Bob shakes his head and stands, shoving the essay towards me. “Bob- what are you-”

 

‘I need to go.’ 

 

He’s quick to scribble it down and shove it my way, pretty much packing my things for me to hurry me along. Before I can even fully stand from my seat, Bob already has my satchel shoved into my chest and he’s hastily walking off, pointing towards my apartments without even looking at me.

 

A familiar weight sinks down in my gut as I watch him go. Sina meows loudly to try and find out why her nap was so rudely interrupted this time, but all I can do is stare after him long after he’s gone. After a few minutes, I do leave, but it’s all a blur. 

 

I’m on autopilot as I walk home and get ready for bed. By the time I wake up the next morning, that rock in my gut is still there, making it hard to eat, and when I stop by Bob’s again to drop off his breakfast, it’s completely empty. Guess I know who loves me now.

 

.

.

.

 

“Jean?”

 

I blink back to reality when I feel a hand gently touch my shoulder and see Armin looking to me worriedly. He frowns softly and pulls his hand away, holding it close to himself before speaking again. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been… different, all day.”

 

I shake my head with a sigh. “I said I’m fine, Armin, go to your next class.”

 

He flinched at my words, and yeah, I could have said it a little nicer without the bite in my voice but I’m tired. I could feel him watching me all through class and then the little shit had the nerve to come up to me after class ended to talk. Today has been shit, and it’s not even over yet.

 

“Okay,” he says quietly, dropping his gaze and readjusting his bag over his shoulder again. “Will I see you in Lore, later?”

 

“Probably not,” I mutter. “You can handle things without me.”

 

Armin’s eyes widen at that, and his hands twist around his shoulder strap. “Are you sure? I thought-”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Armin, stop second guessing me!” I snap. “I know you can handle things on your own; stop worrying so much and get to class!”

 

The look in Armin’s eyes reminds me of where I am, and I know I’ve fucked up. He turns away, tucking some hair behind his ear before nodding and heading out. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

 

“Armin-”

 

“I hope you have a better day, professor.”

 

And then he’s gone.

 

I can't focus, and it doesn't help that I'm irritated. That only makes it worse. With exams around the corner, everyone is on edge, but today is just annoyingly so. My students are asking every question under the sun and it's taking everything I've got in me not to explode. It’s bad enough that I blew up on Armin.

 

Mercy finally takes pity on me and ends the class for me but I've still got work to do. Assignments to review. Papers to grade. Essays to read… 

 

I end up staying in my office all afternoon grading each class but I can't bring myself to read those damn essays. I just get angrier. By the time I make some real progress on my work, it's time for me to head out and the sun is starting to set. 

 

Bob doesn't owe me anything. Everything I've done, I did of my own free will and expect nothing for it. He doesn't owe me one damn thing but still, he could have at least hid his disgust for me a little better. I thought we were getting better at this whole ‘friend’ thing but then he had to go a squash that theory.

 

I've never hidden it because I have nothing to be ashamed of. I've never boasted about it either because it's nobody's fucking business who I end up in bed with, so reactions like this tend to vary. Still though… I thought he was different.

 

No matter when I saw him before, he was always smiling, always kind, always willing to lend a helping hand, and towards the end there, he still was. I always thought that no matter what, Bob would always be the caring, loving guy he is. Finding out that I'm bi and not liking the fact- that never really crossed my mind. I thought maybe… maybe he'd be a little more understanding at least. Not so blatantly hateful.

 

My thoughts are my enemy in situations like these. They make me question too much, over analyze everything, take interest in every tiny detail of everyone else's actions and my own thereafter. They usually turn on me, like now, wondering if I ever flirted with him or if he ever thought I was when I wasn't. I don't think I did… I didn’t mean to… 

 

Whatever, there's nothing wrong with me liking people. Bob's the one with the issue here, not me. Fucking asshole. I almost want to drop his dinner in the river just because he deserves it. Yes, I fucking bought him dinner again, fucking fight me. The guy may hate my guts but I'm not about to leave his empty. That's the only thing keeping me from giving in to the watery temptation.

 

I can see his feet sticking out of his lean-to as I get closer to home. When I finally reach him, I can see he's asleep. Fucking. Asshole. 

 

Without a word I drop the burger unceremoniously by his feet and walk on, but the sudden loud smack of the bag against the ground spooks him, and Bob shoots straight up into his plywood roof. I can hear him groaning and I'm a little proud to admit that it makes me smirk, but then I hear his footsteps catching up to me. His hand claps onto my shoulder to turn me around and he has the gall to smile at me.

 

“What?” I say bluntly. His smile drops and he looks a little confused. “You got what you wanted, what else do you need?”

 

Now he's frowning, and he goes to his pocket to pull out his notepad but I cut him off before he can respond. “Cut the shit, asshole, don't bother.” His eyes catch mine and I only get angrier. “You made it perfectly clear last night that you don't want anything to do with me, so why bother pretending when we both know otherwise?” Bob shakes his head and goes to put a hand on my shoulder but I step back, all but screaming at him. “Don't touch me, you fucking, homophobic bastard!”

 

Those eyes are lighter since last night, save for the bags hanging beneath them, and now wide and suddenly panicking when Bob shakes his head again and lifts his notepad to me.

 

'Something came up, I swear’

 

“Something came up right after I come out to you and you can't get me out of your sight fast enough. Makes perfect sense.”

 

He's exasperated now, clutching his head with one hand while squeezing the notebook in the other. There's a fresh Band-Aid on his neck. A couple, actually. He let go of his head long enough to hold his hands up to me and shake his head again, then took a moment to write.

 

'I swear that's exactly what happened. Please believe me.’

 

“Really?” I scoff. “And just what was so important that you had to go and pack my bags for me for?”

 

He's stopped. Frozen still with panic in his eyes and I can see him debating, thinking, trying desperately to come up with an answer. When he finally writes it down, he's slow to give it to me.

 

'I can't tell you. Please, just trust me.’

 

“Trust you.” 

 

There’s a dark sort of chuckle that people tend to give when they’ve had enough bullshit from someone. Someone that they didn’t think they’d ever have to get tired of. That chuckle hasn’t left me in a while until now. Once again, Bob brought out what no one else could. 

 

“That's rich, coming from you.” Bob's expression drops completely but I don't care anymore. I turn on my heel and leave. “If you're worried about dinner, don't. I'm not going to let you starve- even if you are a prick.”

 

I never look back, but I don't hear him move away, and I can feel his eyes on me, watching me like always.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of those high school stories happened to me irl. It was both wonderful and fantastic at the same time. And yes. I still have that scar under my chin.
> 
> The coming out story was pretty much a collaboration of how all of my friends came out to me, and how scared they were vs. how relieved they were before and after talking with me. Personally, I'm a Christian, so I know the bad rep my religion has when it comes to the Rainbow community, and I could understand why they would be afraid to tell me. When they did though, things were so much better because they could relax and be themselves around me, and I loved how much happier they were. 
> 
> I'm not about to spout off that "hate the sin not the sinner" crap. It's still hate in my book and I don't play that game. Life is so much better when you love and accept the people you care about. At least, that's what I think :)
> 
> *Steps off of soap box and hides*


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anger does a lot of things, but making one stop caring is one thing it does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm about halfway through chapter 14 when I realize: why am I waiting so long to post these babies? I know I'll regret it later but WHOO, HERE WE GO, POSTING PARTY.
> 
> ...
> 
> Yeah. I'm going to regret this later.
> 
> Note, everyone deals with their emotions differently.

\---

**Chapter 5**

\---

 

Days pass. I'm still angry. More than anything though, I'm irritated. It had been a while since I opened up to someone as easily as I did with Bob, and it was for this exact reason why I hadn't. Even more ironic is that the only reason I had done it was so that he could trust me.

 

… 

 

Okay, maybe that's not entirely true. He's so fucking easy to talk to, that asshole. Still though. It was stupid of me to slip back so easily into my teenage years with him. It's all his stupid fault for getting me to do it without even realizing it. Not until it was too late. 

 

I'm a real sight to see. Sitting at my desk, head in my hands hung over my paperwork, and not even close to finished with all the stacks I have to grade. I haven't even shaved. Who cares. It's been a pretty stressful month and that asshole isn't helping.

 

A shiver runs down my spine, and my whole body shakes with it. I've really got to look into investing in a space heater. Fuck knows maintenance wont do anything about the cold. Even now, there are still goosebumps raising along my arms.

 

There's not even a knock on my door, but I can feel someone in the room with me. Their eyes are heavy on me, and it's not helping my mood one bit. 

 

“Office hours are closed so you better have a pretty damn good reason to be here,” I warn them without even looking up from my pitiful hunch.

 

“You look terrible.”

 

That makes me look up. Mikasa is standing there staring at me with her fantastic silver eyes in a not-so-fantastic way that makes me feel like a teen again. Fuck I need a shave.

 

“What are you doing here?” I'm trying to straighten my collar but I think it's a lost cause.

 

She considers me like a lioness, stalking closer to my desk. “Haven't seen you in a while,” she says. “Wondered if you were still interested.”

 

“Yes!” Shit, that was too needy. “I am, I want to learn, I just-” I break into a sigh. “It's been a Hell of a month. Sorry I haven't gotten back to you.”

 

She nods silently, still staring me down. “I don't mind teaching you,” she mutters. “If you've got too much going on though, then you should probably rethink taking up Japanese.”

 

“No,” I shake my head to my desk sternly. “No, I want to learn, I'm just… it's always stressful this time of year, you know that. Exams don't just get the students down.”

 

“I'm very much aware of that.” Mikasa traces her fingers over the books on my bookshelf, not really paying much attention to them and looking at me still. It makes me squirm. “What I'm wondering about is why you look like shit.”

 

I huff. “Thanks, Mikasa, I feel so much better now.” 

 

She doesn't even blink. “So there is something wrong.”

 

Shit. She always has been perceptive. Doesn't help that I pretty much spelled it out for her.

 

“In case you haven't noticed, I've got five completely different languages to teach and at least two of them have multiple classes. Each of those mother fuckers have to have multiples of their own exam, and I'm the one who has to make it. So yes, I look like shit.”

 

She's still so regal. The bitch. “That's never stopped you before. Something else has happened.”

 

“Mikasa,” I start slowly, warning her. “Because we're friends, I'm going to ask you to butt the Hell out.”

 

That does make her blink, but she's still expressionless. We keep eyes with each other, battling the other with our sheer willpower and my stubborn ass won't give in. She finally takes the hint and moves on. 

 

“I'm always here if you need me,” she says cooly. “Until then, get your shit together.” With that, she turns to leave without even a wave goodbye, but then she stops in my doorway. “There's a blizzard due soon. Sometime this week. You know the board won't reschedule exams so if you want less stress in your life I would suggest you make sure you're ready for it.”

 

And then she's gone. Leaving me behind to pick up my pieces. A heavy sigh slips past me and I'm alone again, forced to face the mountain of paperwork in front of me.

 

My scowl has no effect on it and it just sits there, staring at me and waiting for me to get off my ass and do it. That only makes me scowl harder. It still doesn't go away. 

 

Finally,  my stomach growls at me and puts a standstill on my battle with the paperwork. It's only then that I realize just how late it is and how long I've been sitting here. I haven't even eaten lunch. I'd say it's well past due for a meal. The cafeteria should be open for about another half hour and the food is usually good so it's as good a place as any. Plus it's cheap thanks to the college kid budget. So. Sold.

 

When I arrive the last few stragglers are scattered around at different tables and the staff is wiping everything down to get ready to close. Rather than be that asshole who makes them start over again, I go for the pre-made meals and grab a soda. Dick face can drink from the park fountain.

 

The cashier looks relieved when I step up with the pre-made sandwiches and checks me out as her last customer for the day. I'm still not in the mood to see his stupid face so instead of going home, I decide to just pick a table and plop down to eat. Maybe I can get some work done here. My plan ends up being foiled though, once I caught sight of blonde hair.

 

Tucked away in the corner, I can see Armin hunched over his textbooks. He’s frowning in concentration as he reads, but the tension in his shoulders has nothing to do with his studies. Things between us had been awkward since my little explosion on him. 

 

I hate my temper more than anyone for reasons exactly like this. He didn’t deserve that, and I knew it even before the words flew out of my mouth. Armin is my student, so of course it was unprofessional, but more than anything, he’s my friend. And I hurt him.

 

Honestly, I'm surprised that a whole team of assassins hasn't come after me yet. Armin is well loved by almost everyone he meets and if he had told anyone what had happened, for sure, I'd have been all but lynched by now. I'm really surprised he hadn't told Eren, his most trusted friend. Eren certainly saw the difference in Armin’s behavior, and if he had any inclination that I had something to do with it, I'd be six feet under. I wouldn't blame him for it, really. Armin doesn't deserve this.

 

Quietly, I take a breath and step up to his table. He doesn’t notice me, buried deep within his studies and digging even deeper as he sat there. It wasn’t until I cleared my throat a second time that he finally pulled up and blinked his surprise at seeing me.

 

“Je- Professor,” he said, and I could have kicked myself. His eyes sweep over me for a moment before he sits up a little taller. “Something I can do for you?”

 

Oh, for the love of… I lick my lips and stare down to my shoes, wishing I could lick those instead because that’s pretty much what I deserve right about now. Armin waits patiently for me, tightening his lips when I shake my head and look up to him. He sits tall, not daring to let me look down on him but quiet all the same. I can see him wanting to cower into his hoodie, but still he keeps his head up. He’s upset, clearly, and he knows he didn't deserve to be run through the mud like I all but dragged him through, but he’s still giving me a chance to come back into his life. God, I don’t deserve him.

 

“Is it alright if I sit here?” I ask quietly, motioning with the sandwiches.

 

This is it. He has all the power here, and it’s up to Armin whether or not he can forgive me. I know I fucked up, and I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but still. I can only hope.

 

He stares me down, considering everything that’s going down between us right now, and I’ve never felt so small. Man, I’m a dick. Please, PLEASE let me make it up to you. Armin seems to hear my inner please because he nods to the table and scoots his chair over, allowing me to sit across from him rather than beside. Oh, thank God.

 

I sit down without a word and let him go back to his studies. We’re quiet for a few minutes while I try to figure out how to fix this. Finally, I look up from my sandwich and clear my throat again. 

 

“You, uh… You need any help?” I ask, making his pen stop. Armin catches my eye and just stares. My dumb ass gets anxious and starts talking again. “I know I can be pretty stupid sometimes but, if you need anything…” I cough, trying to figure this out. “I can, uh… I can help… If you want me to…”

 

Armin studies me still. His wide, blue eyes haven’t left me since I started talking and my skin is so heavy from it that I can hardly move. I’m about ready to give up when he finally snorts and shakes his head to his text book, scooting it closer to me to see where he’s having trouble.

 

“You really are stupid, Jean.”

 

.

.

.

 

The next few days are achingly similar to the last. Wake up before dawn, cram all day, try and fail at grading then throw dinner at Bob on my way home where Sina hisses and spits at me for taking away our time with Bob. Rinse and repeat. Only difference is the temperature gets lower and lower.

 

Today is no different, or so I think, as I'm filing away some books I had taken up for question references on the Latin test. Finding my lost reading glasses in the back of a bookshelf did nothing to help my mood -how the fuck did they get back there?- but flipping through my old books certainly did. There’s something just theraputic about reading old text. After a few hours of flipping through the pages for test questions, I felt pretty mellow. I had just finished version B of the exams when I heard a knock on my door.

 

“Come in,” I call, still focused on putting my books away while not dropping my glasses from my head. Maybe that’s how they got lost last time. The door opens and closes slowly, but no one answers. I take a second to look back and see Hitch smiling at me. I just turn back to my books. “What can I do for you, Hitch?”

 

“Actually,  professor, I was wondering if there was anything that I could do for you,” she tells me. “With the exams coming up, I'd assume things would be pretty stressful for you.”

 

“I manage,” I say passively, and pick up another book. “Thanks for the offer though. If I think of anything I'll let you know.”

 

“I’ve already thought of something, professor.”

 

Her voice is closer, and the tone she's giving me makes me stop. There's a heaviness across my back where eyes are boring into me that makes my skin crawl. When I turn to peer over my shoulder,  she's sitting on my desk with that Cheshire smile. I don't like this.

 

“Like I said,” she goes on. “Things have been pretty stressful for you, haven't they? I know it's been that way for me.” She crosses her legs meticulously before continuing. “I figured we could help each other out with that.”

 

I've long since turned to face her, knowing full well that I can't keep my back to her. Hitch is smart; too smart sometimes, but I can't believe what she's offering. She's smiling still, and tracing a finger along the corner of her mouth as she studies me.

 

“You know, I've always wondered why such a handsome man would wear such high collars all the time.” Her grin darkens and her eyes pierce mine. “Will you tell me, or would you like for me to find out for myself?”

 

“So you can find out a way to pass your exams?” I snip bitterly. I can still feel the heaviness of a gaze on me. “Like I said before, I've been able to manage without your help.”

 

“Aw, professor-”

 

“Hitch.” My voice is low and threatening. “Get out of my office. Now.”

 

She looks at me with wide eyes for just half a second before her facade drops and she sighs. “Fine. Let's play hard ball.” She hops from my desk to stand before me, shimmying her skirt lower down her legs before crossing her arms and facing me. “You're going to pass me or you're going to lose your job for sexual assault. Do we have a deal or should I keep going?”

 

“No deal. You're going to take your exam just like everybody else without blackmail,” I spit back. “Or should I keep going?”

 

Hitch rolls her eyes and sighs out a chuckle. “C’mon, professor,  I know you're not stupid. Think about this for a second.” She walks around my desk and leans against it to talk closer to me. “You have no proof, no evidence whatsoever and hardly any friends here to back your ass up as a respectable man. One word from me crying on about how horrible, professor Kirstein cornered me in his office will ruin you for good.” She's got a satisfied smirk on her face because the irony is that she's got me pressed as far away from her as I can get, forcing ME in the corner because of her. “So what's it going to be, professor?”

 

If there was a way to make my scowl any more hateful, I'd have done it in a heartbeat. She's got me pinned. Like I said, Hitch is smart. Smart enough that her classes aren't a problem because she's able to figure them out, and the school knows this due to her grades. It wouldn't be hard to convince the board of her story because of it. So why this? Why me? She’s passing just above average in my class so there’s no- oh. Daddy want’s an A. She must be desperate if she's looking for insurance. 

 

If she fails, she takes another year, and Daddy dearest probably won't like that. Even if I manage to get clear of her accusations, my reputation is shot, I'll most likely be forcibly removed from my position and any other school I try to find work at will most certainly turn me away. If she goes down, she's taking me with her. Still though. I can't. 

 

“I said get out,” I growl, not even waiting a breath before answering. She tsks at me and opens her mouth to speak when we both hear a pop by the door. Hitch and I both turn to see Armin standing in the cracked open doorway, chewing bubble gum lazily as he fiddles with his phone. “Armin?”

 

“Hey, professor.” He doesn't even look up.

 

“What are you doing here?” 

 

“Emailing pictures of this to the dean.” It's here when he finally looks up and nods his chin to me. “Or does he even need a witness?”

 

Hitch goes rigid with anger, glaring Armin down like he's insulted her family line. “Pictures can only go so far,” she tells him. “You can make up any story you want.”

 

“True,” he drones. “But video of you trying and failing to flirt says a whole lot more.” His expression is lazy as he holds his thumb over the button on his phone, but I can see the gleam in his eye as he throws Hitch’s words right back at her. “So what's it going to be?”

 

She's beaten and she knows it. With as much grace as she can muster, Hitch leaves my office with her head held high and a scoff on her lips, shutting the door a little too harshly on her way out. A breath I hadn't known I'd been holding comes rushing out and my head goes light and oh, I have to sit down now holy shit.

 

“You really saved my ass there,” I sigh from the shoulder fort I've buried myself under. “You have no idea.”

 

“Nah, you're good, Jean. It figures that she'd come up with a back up plan like that.” Armin drops his bag on my desk and takes the seat across from me, crossing his legs nonchalantly. “Just have to know what the enemy’s thinking and have a counter plan for whatever they come up with. Always be prepared. Even if your camera is broken.”

 

My head pops up so quick I think I have whiplash. “Wha- but you…?” 

 

Armin just smiles. “Like I said, Jean.” He leans back with a satisfied smile and turns his blank phone to me. “Know what they’re thinking.”

 

“Remind me never to piss you off again.” Hitch isn't the only one who's smart. I'm glad I made up with him so I don't have to keep an eye out over my shoulder. Sneaky bastard. I sit back up with a sigh and look to him, putting my glasses on the desk for safety. It's not usual for Armin to be coming into my office like this. “Did you need something?”

 

Armin shrugs. “Kind of,” he tells me, almost bashful. “I came in to check on you. After what just happened I'm glad I did.”

 

“Me too,” I reply. “But why?”

 

“Why am I glad?”

 

“Armin.” I give him my best ‘cut the shit’ look and cross my arms over my chest. He gives in with a sigh and settles more towards the edge of his seat.

 

“Hitch was right, you know,” Armin says. “You do look pretty stressed Jean, and it hasn't gotten any better these past few days. If anything, it's gotten worse.” He turns his big, blue eyes to me. “So, I came to check on you.”

 

I blink. Fuck. I really need to pull myself together if even my students can tell something's off with me. Another chuckle snorts out of me and I have to run my hands over my face. “Thanks, Armin,” I mutter. “I'll be okay.”

 

“You sure?” he asks, almost timid. “Because I was thinking maybe… maybe we could talk about it over dinner?”

 

How many times am I going to be stopped cold by my students today? My wide eyes snap to him a little too quickly and he stiffens.

 

“Or not, you know, it is pretty busy these days and everyone is on edge.” Armin quickly grabs his bag and stands from his seat, shooting it back from how fast he stands and heads for the door. “I should really get back home and study anyways-”

 

“Armin-” 

 

He's halfway to the door and still rambling. “Now that I think about it I really am swamped, wow I need to go.”

 

“Armin-”

 

“I'll see you in class on Thursday-”

 

“Armin!”

 

My hand slaps down on his over the handle of my door and we're both frozen on the spot. He has his head down, not looking at me but at our hands and I can see he's having trouble composing himself.

 

“I need to go.”

 

“No you don't.”

 

He huddles in on himself and shifts his weight over from foot to foot. “Is there something you need, professor?”

 

He's using titles. Putting distance between us. Fine. We'll play it your way. I step back from him but pry his hand off with me before letting him go. Armin stands with his back to me, head still down, and I have to hold my hands to my hips and squeeze tightly to keep from snapping at him.

 

“I'm not a nice person,” I say lowly. “Getting involved with me will give you nothing but trouble, especially with the board. You…” I sigh when I see how tense his shoulders are. “You don't deserve that kind of pressure.”

 

“And what kind of pressure is that?” he asks quietly.

 

I'm pretty sure I'm leaving bruises on my own hips. “Being kept a secret.” He turns at that, eyes glossy when he meets mine over his shoulder. “You're not the kind of person who deserves to be hidden.” 

 

It takes a minute, and he studies me while he thinks, but then Armin opens his mouth to reply. “Is that the only reason, or does this have anything to do with the one you stopped shaving for?”

 

My eyes widen again, and I don't really have an answer for that. He seems to know that, and turns back to open the door, but I finally find my bearings. “Let me walk you to your car.”

 

“Eren’s picking me up.”

 

“Then let me walk you to Eren’s car.”

 

Armin looks back at me again, and from the snicker he blows out, I'm guessing the look on my face gets across to him that I'm as stubborn about this as I am my morning coffee. He steps back and sweeps his arm to the open doorway. “Lead the way.”

 

We're silent most of the way. Both of us are thinking about it, playing out exactly what happened over and over again and trying to figure out if there was any other outcome that could have happened from this. Honestly, I don't think there is.

 

“What's their name?” he asks, breaking the tension for both of us. He's braver than me.

 

“I don't know,” I shrug. “I've been calling him Bob.”

 

“That's lame even for you,” Armin chuckles.

 

“He can't talk so, I've taken the initiative to choose for him.”

 

Armin nods. “So there is someone else.”

 

I shake my head. “Not really. Not like that at least.” I can feel his eyes on me. “I was hoping we were at least friends but, he made it pretty clear that we're not.”

 

Armin finally looks at me head on this time. “How so?”

 

Another shrug. “Took off running when he found out I bat for both teams,” I say passively, but Armin knows me better. “Couldn't get away fast enough.”

 

“You sure you just wanted to be friends?” he asks. “You don't look like the guy to lose sleep over some homophobe.”

 

“It wasn't like that, Armin,” I sigh. “I just…” And here we go. Feelings, come on out and try to make this explanation easier because fuck knows I can't talk right. “It was easy to forget that those kind of people existed around him. It was easy to forget that anything bad existed around him. Now that I know what he thinks, it's been spit right back in my face.”

 

Armin is studying me again, and he takes a moment before he speaks. “You trusted him.”

 

My eyes go down and I sigh. “I trusted him.”

 

“And now you're having a hard time trusting anybody else. You can't let them get close to you.”

 

I look to him this time. “That's not what this is.” I lower my voice. “If it were any other way, who knows. You're something special, Armin; you can't get tied down by someone like me. I'm not worth it.”

 

“I beg to differ.” His voice is small, but his eyes are strong. “But… I see what you're saying. I understand, even if I don't agree with it.”

 

We've made it to the parking lot and have been standing there for a while talking, but now the time for words is over, and we can't seem to come up with any anyways. We just end up staring at one another until a truck pulls up and a hefty bark jolts me back into the real world. Eren is scowling at me from the driver's seat and the fattest head I've ever seen is hanging out through the passenger window, complete with a wagging tail. Once again, I'm frozen on the spot.

 

“Armin, let's get going, it's freezing out here.” Eren is still frowning at me but I'm more focused on the behemoth of a beast staring right at me. Armin steps up to him and I don't think I've ever tensed up more on campus.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Armin scratches it behind the ears and the tail wags faster. I swallow.

 

“What's the matter, Kirstein, you don't like pits?” 

  
  


Fuck you, Jaeger. I roll my eyes and huff out: “Animals aren't allowed on campus, Jaeger, you know that.”

 

Eren rolls his eyes right back. “He's not on campus, he's in my truck and we're late, so let's go!” He makes a point to say that last bit to Armin who sighs in response.

 

Armin tosses his bag into the bed of the truck and turns back to me, tucking some hair behind his ear. “Whatever happened can be fixed, you know,” he tells me. “Just so long as you're both willing to patch it up.” He turns his eyes to me. “I hope it does.”

 

Oh, Armin. You really are something special.

 

A soft smile breaks free from my usual scowl and I nod to the ground in response. “Here's hoping.”

 

Armin nods as well and runs a hand along his arm. “You're wrong you know. You are a nice person.” This brings my eyes back up, but he just smiles. “Otherwise you would have let me walk out the door.”

 

With that, he climbed into the truck and drove off, leaving me stunned on the sidewalk. He's left me with a lot to think about on my way home. The jerk.

 

The wind snaps me back into the real world and I have to tighten my scarf around my neck before moving on. I'm not going to lie, Armin is definitely boyfriend material. If I didn't respect him so much I probably would have asked him out. Life doesn't work out that way though so, here we are.

 

There's a food truck not too far from the park that makes some excellent meatball subs. It's been so long since they last parked here that I am dying to have some. The smell catches my attention before I even see it and my feet do the work for me. They're busy at the moment, hustling about for their customers as fast as they can.

 

While that madness is going on, I watch the t.v. they have stashed away in the back. The news is on, and right away I can see the storm they've been tracking all week front and center. The banner at the bottom of the screen rolls by saying that the storm is so close now that it should land tomorrow night, if not sooner.

 

“What can I get’cha?” I blink back to the guy in front of me, his pen ready in hand over his notepad and I stare at the similarities. “Hey, guy, don't have all day, c’mon. Gotta get this goin’ before the storm hits.”

 

“Right, sorry.” I shake my head clear. The guy scratches down my order and rips it from his notepad to work on it as quickly as possible. Meanwhile I'm left standing to the side still watching the news. My order comes up and the guy has to yell at me again for me to pick them up. My pace is slow, but my thoughts are rampant.

 

A record breaking blizzard, they had called it. With guesstimates of about four to eight feet of snow. It's going to be freezing- below freezing, actually… Not something you really want to camp out in.

 

By the time I make it to Bob's I've made myself sick with all the possibilities of what could happen and the headlines I don't want to see, but there he is, staring at me with discontent covering his features. Bob looks like he just got into a fight and is ready for another as he stands waiting for me, frown still in place the closer I get.

 

When I make it to him, I hold out his dinner but Bob doesn't budge. He just stands there, frowning at me with his arms crossed tight over his chest. Whether it's from the cold or anger, I don't think either of us could tell. I finally get tired of standing there and shove the bag to his chest, but still, Bob doesn't move and the sandwich falls to the ground as I push past him. I think I make it about five steps before my feet stop working and I'm standing still again. It takes a an eternity for the words to come out, but my mind keeps playing the same news story over and over again about a frozen corpse and I just can't…

 

“There's a storm coming,” I tell him, my back still turned. “News said it was a bad one.” I finally turn to see his frown. “I don't think you can ride this one out.” His frown deepens but it's not for me this time. “There's a fire escape on the side of my building.” I insisted on it when I got the place. “No cameras. I'll keep my window unlocked if you need it. Sixth floor.”

 

This time he does frown at me again, and he strides forward while scribbling in his notepad. 

 

‘Do you even want me there?’

 

Now I'm scowling. I offered, didn't I? Before I can answer, Bob waves his hand off to me and walks away, leaving his notebook and dinner behind. Anger fills me up all over again, but before I can shout, something else covers it up.

 

It can be fixed, so long as you're both willing to work on it. That was what Armin had said. Right now, though, it doesn't look like Bob wants anything to do with me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating whether or not I want to post the next chapter or not... I'm thinking yes.
> 
> Also, I'd love to see a game of chess between Hitch and Armin since they're both so calculating in everything they do. Armin would definitely win but the game itself would be fantastic between those two.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a storm coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Slight mentions of blood, guns and homophobia in this chapter, please take care of yourself. Bob gets into some trouble and needs Jean's help. 
> 
> (It's not what it sounds like.)

\---

**Chapter 6**

\---

 

Sina’s mad at me. That’s no surprise seeing as I’ve stopped communicating with Bob but, now she won’t even sleep with me. You  know how I know? I’m freezing my ass off.

 

That prissy, little thing, for all she’s worth, is a freaking space heater. She usually has no problem curling up under my covers and keeping the both of us warm but tonight, she seemed fed up with her lack of Bob in her life and completely ignored me. She HAD been sleeping in my bed when I crawled in for the night but now, it’s way past dark and I’m shivering without her there. She’s meowing at me loudly and I’m too irritated to look back at her.

 

“Well if you’re cold then come back to bed,” I gripe. She still meows. “Come on, Sina.” I raise my arm with the blanket to try and coax her into the warmth but she’s stubborn and it’s too cold to do that for long periods of time so back in my cocoon I go. Her meows are getting louder, more aggressive, and I can hear her tail whipping the glass of the window alongside the storm. Guess the blizzard hit already.

 

With an irritated sigh, I throw my blankets off and grumble out of bed, not even looking back at Sina. I tug my robe on tightly and cover as much skin as I can while I trudge over to the thermostat to turn up the heat. Spoiled brat is going to raise my bill if she keeps this up. Sina is still meowing at me with growing urgency, and the longer I ignore her, the more violent she sounds.

 

“I know! I’m working on it!” She hisses darkly and yowls at me. “Damn it, brat, I just-”

 

I’m stopped cold at the sight of a slumped form outside my window. Sina is meowing even more desperately now, and moves out of the way when I sprint towards her. Bob flinches when I hit the window, but he’s huddled up so tightly into himself that I don’t think he can move.

 

“Idiot! Why didn’t you open the window?” I shove my hands as hard as I can to the sill but it doesn’t budge. When I look closer, the window has been frozen shut. Oh. Bob leans away from the window and shivers into himself when a brutal wind pounds up against him and my window, beating his body and the glass without mercy. I work over time to shove the damn thing open but it just won’t move. Without even thinking, I step back to kick at the window pane, growing more desperate the longer I see Bob shivering, but my socked feet have no effect and I quickly go back to pushing and straining with my hands. “C’mon!” I growl at it and slam my hand against the lock. “Open!”

 

Instantly, the window flies open and I’m thrown along with it, only to be blasted by a wall of frozen air that makes me curl in on myself to keep warm. All of this happens within a breath, because I manage to pull myself together long enough to reach my body halfway out the window and drag one hell of a cold Bob-sickle into my apartment.

 

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon-” I’m frantic as he stumbles in, I don’t think I step farther than a few inches away from him as I throw my robe around his shoulders and guid him to my kitchen. “God, you’re soaked!”

 

Whatever snow has covered him, water has covered alongside with it. There’s ice in his hair and it’s crusted around his shoulders and body too; and then to top it off, there’s blood on his neck, cheeks and forehead from cuts, but they’re frozen on his skin along with the droplets of ice. He’s shaking so hard that it’s difficult for him to walk, and if he were able to speak, I don’t think he’d be able to get a word out through the chattering of his teeth. I’m mumbling under my breath, I know I am but panic is starting to cover me and talking helps me get through it. It makes me know what I need to do. My arm sweeps whatever’s sitting on the stovetop off to the side and I quickly turn on each burner before I shove Bob over to the oven.

 

“Off! C’mon, hurry up!” He looks at me with wide eyes but I don’t give a shit. “You need to get out of those wet clothes, now STRIP!” I yank my robe from his shoulders and run to my front door for my coat. He’s still struggling to get his hoodie off when I scamper back but once it’s off, I shove my coat on him and button him up, never stepping far away from the heat radiating from the stove. Once that’s done, I stand beside him and rub an arm aggressively down his back to warm up what’s not facing the stove.

 

We stay this way for a minute, standing too closely to the oven and huddling next to each other for warmth. Sina even came in to wrap herself around Bob’s legs. After a while, the shivering in his fingers slows down enough for him to uncurl his arms from his body, and allows him to kick off his shoes. They’re just as wet, now so more than ever since the ice on them had melted. 

 

“Good grief, you look like you took a dip in the river.” His gaze drops. “Bob. Please tell me you didn’t go swimming in the river.” He won’t look at me. “Oh, for fucks sake, Bob! Are you trying to kill yourself?” I’m only half joking, but the fact that he shakes his head makes me feel a little better about the situation. Still though, I pull away from him to drop over the counter and sigh, banging my head lightly on the way down. 

 

“Is that the only reason you’re here?” He shifts behind me, and that’s all the answer I need. I stand up straight and scratch my hands through my hair. “Go take a shower. You stink of the river.”

 

He still won’t look at me, but he nods all the same and walks in the direction I point for him. I stand there for a long time. This. All of this. It could have been avoided, but the problem is that we’re both so stubborn. Stubborn for different reasons but, stubborn nonetheless. I can hear the shower running, and when I think about it, I don’t really expect to see him out any time soon. Showers are a blessing to this world; especially after you haven’t had one for a while. Let him have this. In the meantime, I’ve got some cleaning up to do. 

 

The pots and pans I had left out to dry after doing the dishes that morning were now scattered across the counters and floor, but were easily put back in the cabinets without much thought. The closet has some spare blankets, and a throw pillow should be enough for his head for the night, so setting that up on the couch for Bob didn’t take long at all. The real problem was the window.

 

It was still open from when I had wrangled it into cooperation, and now it was being just as annoying when I try to close it. There’s a small pile of snow growing on my carpet from the blizzard blowing in, and I’m still being beaten down by it’s winds while I struggle to close the damn thing. I can’t stand this for more than a couple minutes. Judging by the mountains of snow outside, I’d be willing to bet Bob spent much more than that out in the real thing. He was going to stay out in it all night if he hadn’t fallen into the river. That stubborn idiot.

 

The irritation from this fact paired with everything else gives me the boost of strength I need and I slam the window shut with a yell. I’m still panting at the window with all the contempt I can muster when Sina meows at me and I turn to look at Bob standing in the bathroom doorway. He’s holding a towel around his hips and looking to me, but all I can see is his dripping, wet body. 

 

What once was undoubtedly a carved sculpture of a man is now so skinny that I can see some of his ribs peaking out. His pelvic bones could cut rocks and the skin covering him is smothered in bruises and cuts. His face is gaunt, and his eyes are a few shades lighter than the last time I noticed them, but his arms and legs are just so flimsy that it’s hard to focus on his face. He’s so small like this. If he looks this bad now… what did he look like before I started eating meals with him?

 

Bob looks away, uncomfortable from my scrutiny and clears his throat, holding up his wet clothes in question. Oh. Right. I head over to my dresser and dig out a pair of thick sweats and a long sleeve shirt for him to wear, then swap them for the wet stack he has. 

 

“I’ll go stick these in the wash,” I say without looking at him. He just nods. Luckily, the coat I got him isn’t dry clean only so I stuffed it in with the rest of his clothes. It filled up the washer pretty nicely so I didn’t feel too bad about washing only his things for the night. I can do my own laundry later. 

 

I’m already in the kitchen when Bob steps carefully out of the bathroom and waits for me to address him, still not looking me in the eye. Fine. We can play this game. I snatch up the kettle and fill it with water, not bothering to catch his eye either. He seems to understand, and slowly walks up to the bar. The kitchen is sweltering now thanks to all of the burners being on so I turn off all but one and set the kettle on that one for some cocoa. Two cups and double chocolate packets later, I turn around and set them on the counter between us.

 

The first cup is in my hands and I’m taking my time to blow on it before I take a sip and give it to him, but Bob doesn’t take it. Instead, he reaches out and takes the untouched cup, still not looking at me as he cradles it to his chest. Well. It’s a start.

 

Slowly, I pull back and set the first cup down. He’s careful to take a sip from the second mug, but it’s due to the heat coming from it rather than any distrust he has for me. It would have gone on this way all night if Sina hadn’t yelled at me.

 

With a sigh, I pull away from the counter to get the can of whipped cream from the fridge and spray a small amount into her bowl. She laps it up greedily with those cute, little grumbles of happiness and I can’t help but snicker at her. I spray some cream into my own mug and leave the can for Bob, who carefully squirts a big blob into his cup. So he’s got a sweet tooth, huh.

 

“You can stay here tonight,” I tell him. “Couch is all made up and you can stay as long as you need. I don’t want you out there.”

 

He shifts, uncomfortable, and it’s only then that I remember that his notepad is gone. I nod to my briefcase in the chair beside him and he takes the initiative to secure a pen and paper from it.

 

‘Thanks but, I don’t want to put you out.’

 

“You’d be putting me out by not staying,” I say flatly. “You’re staying and that’s that.”

 

He frowns.

 

‘OK, mom.’

 

“Damn right.” I’m more focused on my mug than him because I don’t want him to see how relieved I am that he can joke like that. Still, I have to take a minute to choose my words carefully. “You don’t have to worry about me hitting on you or, catching the gay or anything. It doesn’t work like that, so please just- stay here, and don’t go out there and get yourself killed.”

 

Bob slaps his hand on the counter and I flinch. I don’t want to look at him but he makes me when he snatches my wrist and glares right into my soul. He shakes his head slowly, and carefully lets go when he knows I won’t move.

 

‘I already told you that I’m not like that. I don’t care who you love, and I swear on your grandmother that what happened the other day really was just bad timing. Please. Believe me.’

 

He’s really pulling the big guns if he’s swearing on Gramma. I take my time staring at his writing, sipping leisurely at my cup and keeping my eyes down. The thing is, I want to forgive him. I really do, but it’s so hard; especially when it’s someone who can make me so trustful again. 

 

Still though. Bob, in his own way, trusts me just as much. He doesn’t use me for anything, never has. He came to me for help at the risk of being seen through his dreaded cameras, regardless of what I said about them before. He drank the cocoa, and made a point to do so in front of me. Bob’s learned to trust me, even after the hissy fit we went through. He trusts me despite it. The least I can do is trust him back. Besides, this is Bob we're talking about here.

 

“That tends to happen to me a lot, actually,” I say quietly. “Bad timing for something else. Not something I need to know though, I get it.” He looks to me openly, making sure to catch my eye again before scribbling.

 

‘It’s safer if you don’t know.’

 

“I know,” I sigh. “I just figured you’d know that I don’t want to hurt you by now.” He shakes his head.

 

‘It’s safer for YOU.’

 

I look to Bob slowly, and he just nods at me. The frown on my face doesn’t cover my confusion, and I’m glad he seems to know it’s not anger this time. “Who are you, Bob?” He merely smiles sadly and taps what he’s written again. Safer if I don’t know. I shake my head, staring down at his words. 

 

“Bob… I don’t care if you’re being tracked down by killer ninjas.” He snickers at that. “I just…” I want my friend back. I want to trust you. I want you to trust me. I want you back in my life. “Forget it.”

 

Fuck this vulnerability. Fuck this emotional crap, fuck this moment, fuck my life for ever muttering those words even in my head, because Bob reaches over and puts his hand on mine as if to comfort, but I pull away. I can’t deal with this right now. Bless this poor idiot for getting that without me having to say it.

 

‘Thanks for letting me stay.’

 

“Forget it,” I say again. “You’re always welcome here. Otherwise Little Bit might kick me out.” I jerk my thumb over to Sina who meows on cue, having curled up along Bob’s arm long ago. He chuckles at her and strokes her lovingly down her back. Pitter-patter, mother fucker.

 

Bob doesn’t see my doe eyes at their reunion though. Before he can, I get up and head for the first aid kit in my bathroom. He’s still bleeding a little, even after the shower. The small cuts on his face and neck aren’t going away, and the one on his neck looks a little deep. Momma Mode kicked in hard when he came through the door. Er, window. He doesn’t even seem fazed when I come back with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and a bag of cotton balls in tow, he simply scoots Sina aside and gives in to my Momma Mode. He’s learned well.

 

My glasses go on for my own sake to make me feel better about seeing the smaller details of his wounds while I work. The cuts on his cheeks and forehead go quickly, and soon enough he’s covered in enough band aids to hide his freckles. The gash on his neck turns out to be what look like two-slashed claw marks, and I’m a little more careful with this one than I was with the others. Once that’s all patched up, I don’t even have to ask him if there are more. One look from me and he’s already rolling up his sleeves. I don’t see him staring at me as I work, so when he catches my eye, he actually flinches and looks away for a second. Then, cautiously, he looks back up to me and slowly lifts his hand to his neck.

 

“Did I miss one?” I lean over to look, but Bob shakes his head no, and shyly points to me. Oh. 

 

My hand instinctively goes to cover the scars on my neck and he shakes his head to keep me from explaining. The ones on my hands and wrist are exposed as well, very much out in the open and it’s only now that I’m realizing this. I never let anyone see them. I shake my head as well and go to finish my work on Bob’s arms. We’re quiet as I cover his fingers and work my way up, but somehow, it comes bubbling out. 

 

“I was sixteen, and, in love.” I start slowly, keeping my eyes on my work. “So, we decide to come out to our parents so that we could get married after high school. I was out the door before my dad could get his shotgun.” I feel him tense beneath me, but my hands continue working. “Ended up on his doorstep only to find out that he didn’t say anything to his parents. Too scared, he said, which was fine. So I ask him, can I stay with you? He says no, because his parents don’t want him hanging around ‘raging, bisexual Jean Kirstein.’ They didn’t even know we were friends.”

 

Bob dutifully switches arms for me and I continue wrapping bandages around his knuckles. “So, I ended up on the streets. I dropped out because my tuition was withdrawn thanks to dad, and I didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I tried to make it on my own. I was in my senior year at school due to my weird birthday anyway, and it didn’t hurt that I had skipped a grade but, because I was only sixteen, it was hard to find work. I met some people, did some jobs, figured out how to survive just fine but… there was an accident.”

 

It’s here that my hands falter, and I don’t even realize that I’m touching my neck again until the back of my fingers tickle my chin. “That’s how Gramma found me. The hospital called my parents but, they didn’t want anything to do with me. So, she took me in. I lived with her ever since. Well, up until she died.”

 

All of my focus is on disinfecting a scratch on his arm, and he has the sense not to say anything. Even if he could. He lets me get through it, somehow knowing it’s what I need to do in order to get my thoughts in order. When I finally finish, he’s staring at me with that hard look again, and I have to hold a hand up to him. “Don’t get sappy on me, Freckles-” but he’s already writing and shoves it to me.

 

‘I’m sorry I made you feel like your parents did.’

 

Nope. Nope, nope, no, no, no, get back down my throat, emotions, you’re not allowed out, fuck you very much. I crumple the paper and stand up from my chair, gathering the first aid kit as I talk. 

 

“What did I say about getting sappy, huh?” I snap the case shut and turn to him. “I’ve got to get back to bed. French exams for the morning classes are tomorrow and the board won’t close the school because we can’t reschedule the tests after the break.” I nod to the couch. 

 

“If it’s too cold over there, you can turn on the stove again, and if you’re hungry, anything in the fridge is up for grabs. Especially left overs, get those fuckers out.” I look to him again. “I’ll pick up your stuff tomorrow and bring it back home with me unless you want to get it yourself. You need anything else?” His eyes are hard on me, but he slowly shakes his head no. “Alright then. I’ll try not to wake you up in the morning. See you tomorrow.”

 

Bob waves to me as I charge back to the bedroom, and that’s it for the night.

 

.

.

.

 

I could cut a fucking bitch right now, I swear. The snow has stopped, but that only maximizes the blinding sunlight burning my retinas and oh, I could so murder right now. To top off this fucking fantastic cake of mine, my stomach twists in on itself because I'm fucking famished. Yep. Someone has to die. 

 

I throw my blankets off only to regret it the moment cold air hits my skin, and I have to shrug a blanket over my shoulder because my damn robe is missing. The carpet is soaked from the open window fiasco last night and when my feet slap down, my socks do nothing to protect them. Fucking stab someone already.

 

This is all Bob's fault. I can see him sleeping peacefully on the couch, warm and cuddly with my fucking traitor of a cat who looks so damn comfortable curled up over his neck, that good for nothing bitch I'll shave her bald, that'll teach her.

 

Fuck. I need food.

 

.

.

.

 

Okay, I may have overreacted. Just a little. Now that I've got some food in my belly, I've come to the conclusion that murder isn't such a good idea. I look horrible in orange. 

 

I'm still exhausted, but this weak ass coffee is helping put some of those lost hours of sleep behind me. I'll get the real cup from my guy on my way out- if he's still down there after the storm. God, I hope he is.

 

It's just about time for me to head out, and although my coat has a hint of river smell lingering on the inside, I don't think it'll rub off on me before I can get it dry cleaned. Looking at Bob and Sina now, they look adorable together. I'm glad he came here last night,and I'm glad he stayed. I'm especially glad I get to see Bob completely content with the blanket pulled up under his chin and Sina curled up on him and snuggling into his hair. Pitter-fucking-patter. Okay, she can keep her fur. 

 

Before I can get too sappy, I force myself out the door to work. It’s just a little longer until break, I can make it. At least I think. 

 

As expected, class was quiet. And boring. I barely made it out alive. 

 

Thankfully, my coffee guy was waiting for me with open arms and blessed me with the grace of caffeine in an extra large cup that got me through the day. Well. Almost. I dozed off towards the end and nearly jumped out of my seat when Amanda slapped down her answer sheet on my desk. Don’t think I didn’t see that smirk, little missy. 

 

Anyway, long story short, I made it through exams and managed to turn in all the answers without falling over in my zombied state. I really don’t feel like cooking mainly because I think I very well will end up sprawled on the floor drowning in my own drool, so the fact that the pizza shop is open gives me one more reason to exhaustedly weep for joy. As I pass by Bob’s lean-to though, I notice that his things are gone, and I’m practically giddy by the time I make it to the elevator. Bob’s finally come to his senses.

 

“I'm home,” I call weakly. “You didn’t scare him too badly, did you, Sina?”

 

She comes running to me with a delighted pur, and I don't think twice to extend my arm out for her to jump on my shoulder. I give her my usual pets but she's more interested in the pizza, which I don't blame her for. I'm starving, and am more than ready to tear this baby apart.

 

“You better get in here and get your pizza before Sina and I eat it all, Bob,” I say, walking further in to drop off our dinner on the bar. “I'm not even kidding, man, I'll eat it all.” Silence. Not even a rumble. “Bob?”

 

I leave my coat on a barstool and look a little deeper. No one in the living room, or the bedroom, or even the bathroom. The washer and dryer are empty and the blanket is folded up on the couch with the pillows. On top of that is a small note written in a handwriting I've grown to know well.

 

‘Stay safe.’ 

 

Suddenly, I'm not so hungry anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, sad Jean ;.;
> 
> I love the idea of Momma Jean. We get so much Momma Marco but Momma Jean with his glasses on putting bandaids over cuts- I love it.
> 
> Lemme know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's safer if you don't know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There's violence and blood in this chapter that I'm not able to specify without ruling out the entire chapter, so please take care of yourself if it starts to be too much.
> 
> Also, really long chapter for your pleasure.

 

\---

**Chapter 7**

\---

 

“Jean!”

 

I jolt out of my thoughts and back to reality at the sound of Eren screaming my name. He’s looking at me with that usual scowl and waving a hand in front of me.

 

“Earth to Seabiscuit; you in there?”

 

“Knock it off!” I slap his hand away from my face and sit up straighter in my chair, scouring the empty room. “What time is it?”

 

“Late,” Eren gripes. “Thomas turned in his test almost half an hour ago and you didn’t so much as blink. We’ve been here all day.”

 

The shadows growing on the walls confirms this theory, and the ache in my back from not moving in that terrible excuse of a chair only backs it up further. I stand up to stretch the kinks out and groan at the pops ringing out from my spine. “Guess I’m just tired,” I mumble. “Like you said, it’s late.”

 

“Yeah, and I got somewhere to be, so can we hurry it up?” Eren snips.

 

“You didn’t have to stay,” I growl back.

 

“With how screwed up you are? I’m not taking any chances!” He waved his hands to the pile of answer sheets and tests laying out on my desk. “If something somewhere were to screw something up, I’m not taking the fall for any of it.”

 

Eren has been testy all day. At first I thought it was nerves from the exam like everybody else, but now that the test is over, there’s no excuse. “Quit whining like a little bitch and go already, I’ve got this!” He actually growls and turns away to huff out the door when I call out to him. “Tell Armin I said to have a good break but you? You can go fuck yourself.”

 

He stops mid-stride and I prepare myself for another verbal battle but he stays quiet for a long time before he finally speaks. “Did you really mean that?”

 

I snort. “To go fuck yourself? Well I mean don’t bother if you like it-”

 

“What you said to him.” Eren turns his head just enough to let me see the side of his cheek. “The last time you two spoke.”

 

Oh. I stop gathering the answer sheets and turn to face Eren, but he still has his back to me. His fists are clenched tight and his shoulders are stiff, but I can see that he’s holding back more than he wants to. Armin is his best friend- they’re practically brothers. I’ve never seen them far apart from the other and if I did, it wasn’t for long. Of course Eren would be protective of someone he cared about. Especially his best friend. A sigh slips out before I can catch it and lean against my desk.

 

“Every word,” I finally mutter.

 

His fists tighten. “You really think he’s special?”

 

“Special enough to be appreciated properly.” 

 

There’s finality in my voice, and I think even he can hear it through that thick skull of his because his fists loosen, and the tension in his shoulders falls away.

 

“Good.” With that, he checks his watch and resumes his exit at a faster pace. “Be careful going home. It’s a full moon tonight; all the weirdos are out.”

 

“Don’t I know it,” I mutter back, but he’s already gone. He’s right though, with how low the sun is right now, there most likely won’t be enough light for me to make it home, so I hurry with the task of turning in the exams and heading home. 

 

Thankfully, most of the snow had melted away so it was an easier trek back than usual, but the sun is practically gone by the time I make it home. Sina rushed me at the door and didn’t even let me make dinner. Despite how windy it is, she’d been cooped up all day and needed a break, and to be honest- I could use one too. 

 

The fresh air is cold but welcome in my lungs when we finally make it through the park. The walk to and from work never really gives me the same comforts as it does when I’m with Sina, mostly due to the fact that I’m more concentrated on getting to my destination and what I’ll be doing when I get there, but these mindless walks always give me a chance to slow down.

 

Still though, my mind races. I make a detour from the usual endless wandering and slow down in front of Bob’s home. Or, where it used to be, at least. I haven’t seen him around here for the last few days. The plywood is still there but his backpack and other belongings are gone. I had been leaving food in hopes of keeping my promise but, whatever I had left always remained in the same spot when I came back later, paired with a few angry crows and cats fighting over who would get it. Now, I just stop by out of a distant hope. A fantasy.

 

A billowing cloud of smoke comes from the sigh I let loose from the sight of his empty home. I really thought we could work things out. I really  _ wanted  _ us to work things out. Guess he didn’t return the sentiment.

 

‘ _ Stay safe _ ,’ he had said. Like he was a danger to me just hanging around. It’s not like I haven’t had my fair share of bad eggs… but he doesn’t know that. Still. I told him over and over again that all I wanted from him, all I needed from him was just his time. I didn’t care about anything else.

 

It was the rumble of my empty stomach that brought me back to the real world this time and a cold wind blew harshly over my face, tickling my newly grown beard. Fuck, I need to shave. 

 

I shake my shoulders and huddle into myself as I turn around to head home. The wind is strong as I walk, moving the clouds along the sky as best it can to let the moonlight shine through but it’s simply too thick to even try just yet. It makes it difficult to see my feet in front of me and I almost run into a little girl who rushes past me, sending chills down my spine from the rush of her passing wind. Despite her being so cooped up, it’s been awhile since we made it to the park, so Sina should be waiting for me. When I make it to the sidewalk, however, Sina isn’t there. She’s still not there after I wait a few more minutes, or when I call her name, or when I look around. Cue panic mode: now.

 

Suddenly that ‘breath of fresh air’ burns in my throat and lungs as I race through the park trying to find her. It’s dark, almost pitch black thanks to the moon hiding behind a wall of clouds and it only irritates me further into my panic. Sina is gone again, and she doesn’t have Bob to blame this time.

 

Eight o’clock.

 

Nine o’clock.

 

Ten o’clock.

 

Still no Sina. Now my eyes are burning from the threat of tears because I can’t find her. My Little Bit is missing in the big, dark park and there’s nothing I can do about it. My fingers and toes are numb from the cold, my face hurts from the wind and my voice is giving out from calling out her name, but I keep moving on. I have to.

 

I’ve practically walked the entire park over twice now, and still find nothing. The southern edge of the park is way too far away from my apartment but I have to try; no stone left unturned. I’ve never really been through this part of the park before because it’s usually popular. People go jogging, there’s a kiddy-park for the kids and a pond for the old folks to feed the birds. It’s not really somewhere I’d expect to find Sina, but I’m desperate. I haven’t seen her anywhere.

 

By now, most of the clouds have been pushed aside by the wind, helping to light up the place with the moon but it’s still spotty. It’s better than the pitch black I had been dealing with before, but having my eyes switch from dark to light to dark again was really messing with my head. I could have sworn I saw a kid with a tail standing just on the corner of my eye, but when I looked, there was nothing there. It’s late, I’m tired, and my head hurts. I just want my cat back.

 

“Sina!”

 

A rustling to my left.

 

“Sina?” 

 

It happens again, and my heart flies to my throat. I can hear her growling. My feet move for me because all I can think about is holding her. 

 

“Sina, baby, come on.” My voice is pathetic, but I don’t care. The bushes keep rustling when I get closer. She must be stuck, and irritated because her growling continues. “Don’t do that to me, please, c’mon.”

 

A shadow moves as the wind starts to blow again, taking the clouds along with it, and I draw closer still. The moonlight gives me a brief glimpse of her fur that flashes through the bushes, struggling against something I can’t see through the shadows of the bush. I’m just about to reach out to it and untangle her when I’m slammed full-bodied into a thick oak tree. Before I can do anything a hand slaps itself over my mouth and shoves my head back into the bark. 

 

Instinct has me growling and struggling against my attacker, kicking and fighting as much as I can while pinned up to the tree, but I’m stuck. The guy moves in so closely that his face is practically in mine and he shushes me desperately, as though he’s panicking himself and as the wind picks up, the clouds finally move away with it to reveal him. 

 

The moonlight shines cleanly over Bob in all his wonder, and I freeze instantly. My eyes grow wide and I try to say his name but he shushes me again and shakes his head with dread in his eyes. My frown is enough to make his hand move slowly from my face but his fear isn’t enough to keep my mouth shut.

 

“What the HELL ARE Y-”

 

He slapped his hand back over my mouth and oh, I am LIVID. I struggle against him again, more furious than I have ever been with him before and he knows it. Bob tried to settle me against the tree again, but after skipping meals for the past few days, I’m not surprised that I can take him. I shove him off and he panics further, coughing slightly but still begging me to stay silent- but I’m not done.

 

“The FUCK are you doing out here?! And why are you-”

 

Bob finally gave up and snatched a stick from the ground to toss it over in front of the bush. Instantly, metal jaws snapped shut around the branch and chewed it in two, falling back to the ground after momentum had launched it in the air. My words die out on my lips and my eyes are huge, but before I can say anything, Bob shoves me up against the tree again and smothers his hand over my mouth. He doesn’t have to tell me to stay quiet this time.

 

My eyes are glued on the steel trap lying uselessly on the ground, but the sound of chittering and growling catches my attention, and when black vortexes show up out of nowhere and spit out little demon looking things- I’ve lost it. I’ve completely lost it, that’s the only explanation. This year’s exams have finally thrown me into the looney bin.

 

A blur darts out of the bush and runs off, causing an uproar between the monsters and sending one after it. In the meantime, the demon-things look to the trap with obvious disgust at finding it empty and growl and spit at it as they work to set it back up. They’re tiny, probably a little bigger than Sina herself so they have to work together to get the jaws back open and set. Once it’s ready, they jump back into their little vortexes and everything goes quiet. I don’t even realize that Bob has moved away, coughing into his elbow as I stare slack-jawed at what just happened.

 

“What-” Bob shakes his head and takes a step to me but I step back and lower my voice to a pathetic crack. “What the fuck just happened?”

 

Before he can answer, I hear Sina again, only this time she’s not in the bushes. I whip around to see her struggling with one of those demon things as it waddles along with her in it’s arms. It’s clearly aggravated the more she fights back and finally get’s tired of it. My heart freezes when the demon thing stops and opens it’s mouth at a terrifying level to try and swallow my cat whole.

 

“Sina!”

 

I burst away from the tree before Bob could hold me back and charged after the monster holding Sina. He fought with me for a moment, even pushed me away, but I went on. I heard him fall to the ground, but I didn’t stop for anything, I just kept running. The monster snapped its jaws closed and turned to me with wide, beady black eyes, stunned for a moment before giving me a sickening grin that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand right up. 

 

Having its attention on me gave Sina a chance to scratch the bastard up and it hissed at her as she ran away, but I kept going. By the time it turned back to me, my soccer skills had returned and I punted that fucker halfway across the park. I heard it scream all the way down to the pond before hearing a satisfying ‘splat’ without any other struggles. Nobody messes with my cat.

 

I couldn’t enjoy watching the ripples settle on the water because more growling and chittering went on behind me. Sina was hissing and had her back arched high at the spectacle going on. When I turned, I finally saw Bob surrounded by more of those monsters and getting his ass handed to him as they swarmed him.

 

They jumped and clawed and scratched and bit, all of them attacking at once and covering Bob in cuts, but he fought valiantly. When they jumped, he kicked, when they clawed, he punched and when they bit, he ripped them off and threw them away. I had to move out of the way when he threw one in my direction as I charged in to help him, but another jumped on me before I could make it to his side.

 

A few feet. I was barely a yard away from the guy and I couldn’t help him because I was being swarmed by a mob of angry monsters. I fought them off as best I could, but they just kept coming. No matter how far I threw them, no matter how hard I hit them, they just. Kept. Coming.

 

Panic was starting to fill me again as their numbers grew, and suddenly I was on the ground, fighting for my life and screaming, crying, trying desperately to breathe but I just couldn’t move. They were everywhere- everywhere! I can’t move, I can’t get away, this is it, I can’t-

 

A bright, blue light washed over me and blew the beasts away. One of them scratched my face from the force of being blown away, but I didn’t care. I could breathe, and I took heaping helps of it until the sight of Bob stopped me cold.

 

His eyes were blue, and not just the color, no, they glowed an iridescent blue; and the same sort of light from his eyes shimmered around his hands like fire. The demons cowered before him, and tried to run away but Bob’s anger grew, and he flexed his hands down towards his feet to blow out another blue pulse that turned the monsters into dust. The wave rushed towards me and my fleeing captors, and I braced myself for the pain it would bring me, not able to run away in time- but the only thing I felt was a ripple sensation, like a gentle wave. I lifted my head cautiously to see what happened, only to find the blue chasing away the last of the demons and dissipating once it got too far away. 

 

I turned back to Bob once the last of the creatures were gone, glaring them down to the last moment. Then the flame flickered out of Bob, and his hands and his eyes went back to normal. He looked to me, panting heavily with something in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place, until they closed shut and he went down coughing.

 

“Bob!” I shot up and ran to him, out of breath myself but when I tried to turn him over, my gut fell, and it took everything I had in me not to throw up. He was so weak, but still, he hissed out in pain from his leg being twisted in a steel trap, a silent scream that I was thankful not to hear. 

 

“I’m sorry!” I let him go and he crumpled to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry! Bob, I-” He shook his head and tried to reach down to his leg, but pain caught in his throat again and trapped him in place. “Don’t move! We need to call an ambulance-” Bob’s hand is on my arm before I can even pull out my phone and again, he shook his head, his pale eyes hard on mine. “I can’t just leave you here like this, Bob! Get over your stupid fear of-”

 

His hand ripped my arm away from my pocket with more force than I’d imagine him having right now, and his breathing is more wet and haggard than it was a few minutes ago. Still. Bob’s eyes are hard on me, warning me not to even try it if it’s the last thing he does. It very well might be.

 

“Fine.” My voice is shaky, but angry. “Then you’re gonna need this.” I yanked off the fabric belt from my coat and folded it over a few times before putting it out in front of his lips. He opened his mouth obediently and gave me a nod, no trace of doubt in his eyes at my suggestion. Me? I’m a mess. 

 

I swallow hard and shift down to his leg so I can grab hold of the teeth around his calf and test my grip so that I don’t get cut too. He tenses even more when I do but makes no move to stop me, so I take a deep breath and start counting, moreso for myself than his sake. By three, I have to put in more effort than I thought to open the trap, but I’m more grateful now than ever that I don’t have to hear Bob screaming. I can see it in his lungs though.

 

We struggle with the steel trap for a gruesome few minutes before it’s finally off of Bob’s leg, and we’re both left panting- and in his case, coughing on the ground. I snatch my belt from his mouth and wrap it tightly around his thigh, not even bothering to slow down when he hisses in pain. I will NOT have him bleeding out here.

 

There’s too much blood, so much that it’s staining the grass around us and my hands are slipping, but Bob tries to shoo my hand away. I just slap his hands back and continue tightening the belt, but he actually sat up. I almost shoved him back down until he reached over to glow across his leg again. This time, instead of a flame-like flicker, it’s a warm wave, and I can see it settle deep in his wounds. 

 

The light sinks into the teeth marks in his legs and stays there until I notice the muscles stitching back together. If I wanted to throw up before, I really want to now. Bob’s breathing is way too heavy and wet, and I can see his shoulders heaving with effort as he holds the light from his shaking palm. Before the light can finish patching his leg back together though, his body finally gives up and he falls back, coughing upon landing.

 

I manage to catch his head before it hits the ground too hard and hold on for dear life, only now just noticing how hot his skin is. How long has he been sick? Bob looks up to me blearily, his eyes so pale now that there's barely any color left at all. They wander around for a moment like he doesn’t know where he is, but focuses after a second and fucking smiles at me as though he’s trying to comfort me; like he’s trying to tell me that everything is okay. What utter bullshit.

 

The scowl I give him does nothing to deter that stupid smile of his as his eyes flutter some more to try and keep him awake; a battle that he is quickly losing. Sina finally deems it safe enough to come sniffing about and meows quietly to Bob in my arms. I carefully set him down on the ground and looked around for some help, not really surprised when I find the place completely void of people. Like I said, it's late, dark, and apparently full of tiny, human hunting demons.

 

The hospital's out. No one's around to help. Walking to my place with a half-dead Bob in tow is going to be a bitch. Yeah. This whole situation sucks.

 

Growling in frustration seems to stir Bob back to life, and it's only then that I realize he's looking for more demons because of the sound I made. I waved him off and carefully hooked my hands under his armpits to drag him over to the tree he had pinned me at. I'm hyper aware of anymore traps along the way, and finally made it so that I could lean him up against the trunk somewhat comfortably before I shook my coat off my shoulders to lay over his torso, covering Sina with a sleeve as well.

 

“Wait here,” I mumble, and Bob is already struggling to sit up and stop me. “I said wait here! I can't very well carry you around you like this.” 

 

He's too weak to stop me and he knows it, so I don't feel too bad when I walk off and hear him ‘thunk’ back into the bark, pushing out another cough. The place is too silent not to hear it. Careful steps take me away from Bob and Sina without stepping into any traps of my own, and before long I'm back on the sidewalk surrounding the park.

 

Whatever stroke of luck I'm having right now, let it stay because praise Jesus hallelujah there's a cab waiting down the street. I tug my beanie a little lower over my brow and make my way over to the car. The light on his roof is off but I don't care, I'm sure I can persuade him to take us home. The look he gives me when I knock on his window says otherwise.

 

“I'm off duty, pal, beat it.” He just barely cracked his window to tell me, but it's all I need. Carrying cash has been ingrained into my subconscious since my teenage years and a flash of a bill makes the crack widen further.

 

“Just need to get us to a friend's house across the park ,” I say nonchalantly, leaning against the side of the car so he never sees my face. “He's expecting company.”

 

The cab driver takes the money and lowers his window halfway. “I don't see no ‘us.’”

 

“And I'd like to keep it that way.” I flash him another bill, but jerk my fingers back before he can grab it. “Not really the photogenic type; my friend and I.”

 

At that, the cabbie takes off his hat and plops it over the camera on his dashboard. “Anything else, princess?”

 

I push off from the car and walk off, pocketing the cash so he doesn't drive off with it. “Just wait here  for Prince charming.”

 

Bob is right where I left him, thankfully, and Sina is still tucked up beside him as well. It takes some work, but I managed to loop his arm over my shoulder and drag him over to the sidewalk. He panics for a moment when we get closer to the cab but doesn't seem to have the energy for a real fight. It helps that I mutter safety in his ear and yank his hood all the way over his head until he's pretty much covered to his nose, but he's still tense while I open the car door and shove him in. I round the car to hop in on the other side and Sina jumps in as well before I give Mr. Crabby-Cabby the go ahead and start pointing out directions. 

 

The radio crackles on about another gassing in a city in Denmark, repeating the same story from this morning's paper, but I'm more focused on listening to Bob. His breathing gurgles in between the short, heavy panting and I know that sound. The cabby seems to hear it too, because he won't stop flicking his eyes to the rearview mirror.

 

He eyes Bob and Sina occasionally, but Bob is hunched over to cover his face and Sina is sitting pretty between us like the queen she is, so there's really nothing to complain about. Bob's breathing is getting weaker though. Weak, but heavy with fluid, and not getting any better. After a few minutes, Bob sags and sways to the door, thudding against it with heavy breaths. 

 

“Hey, no, come on,” I mutter to him and shake him awake. “Just a little longer.”

 

The eyes of the cab driver lock onto Bob again and I have to glare at him to stop. Bob coughed into himself for a minute then took in a deep breath and nodded to me, shifting to sit a little straighter. I stop the ride at another apartment complex near my own and get out quickly. Before I go to Bob though, I cross my arms over the top of the driver's window to hold up the cash again.

 

“Thanks for such a quiet night.”

 

He reached for the money and stuffed it in his breast pocket. “Stupid flat made me late gettin’ home; you call that quiet?”

 

Thank fuck this guy knows his back alley work. I peel Bob out of the car and barely manage to get the door shut before the car drove away and left us on the sidewalk. I wait a second to make sure he's out of sight before I start moving us towards the alley, but it's obvious the guy wants nothing else to do with us.

 

The fire escape was still halfway extended to the ground from when Bob used it last, and it's because of that that I managed to get my hands on it to pull me up. The damn thing is frozen stuck though, and I had to put all of my weight on it with some very choice curses at the metal and its lineage before I slapped it and made the whole thing drop the rest of the way down with me in tow. 

 

To this day, I deny whatever high pitched, yelping sounds that Bob may have heard that night. He was clearly delusional from blood loss. He does, however, perk up when I fall flat on my back with the feet of the ladder crushing my rib cage.

 

“I'm fine,” I wheeze, and struggle to stand back up. “C’mon.”

 

Bob tried and failed miserably to sit up, flopping back to the wall like a rag doll with a small ‘oof.’ Yeah. He's not climbing this on his own. 

 

Without a word, I bent down and scooped him up and over. He's much lighter than expected. He starts swatting at me after I heft him over my shoulder but a coughing fit stops him and gives me the chance to climb the ladder. Of course, Bob disagrees with my tactics but, hey, what's he gonna do? There's no way he can climb the first row on his own, left alone six flights of stairs… Fuck I have to carry this guy up six flights of stairs. Fucking Hell.

 

Whatever, I need to hurry. Sina follows along and jumps ahead as we make it up, always keeping her eyes on us and meowing me on. Around the third flight, Bob goes limp and I feel more anxious to get him inside than ever despite how exhausted I am. I finally make it to my window and carefully sit him down against the corner railing and confirm my suspicions that he did pass out. I turn around to face my window and pry it open, but the damn thing is frozen shut again. Mother fucker. Back down I go.

 

It crosses my mind once I race past Hannes and the stupid screaming kid- seriously, lady, why do you have him up this late- that I needed to do this anyway because of continuity. Hannes saw me leave, he needed to see me come back. Sina races along behind me and jumps into the elevator just as the door closes, leaving the kid and mom alone in the lobby terrified at my ‘ferocious cat’ being loose.

 

Bob is still leaning in the corner when I make it back to my room, and a few good smacks later rips the window open just like before. He’s not looking too good though. His face is pale, and he’s so still save for the little coughs that escape him. I’m careful when I carry him in through my room and lay him on the couch in the living room so I can turn on the stove again. The blanket goes back over Bob’s torso but the first aid kit is helping me wrap up his leg.

 

Cutting his jeans may be a dick move but I refuse to take off his pants without his permission- there are stereotypes for a reason. The jagged bite of the steel trap isn’t as deep as it was before, and while the blood still flowed, it was slower. My belt was still wrapped tight around his thigh and for that, I was grateful, but it had to come off sooner or later. 

 

My hands take great care in disinfecting the wounds before wrapping them in gauze but there’s not enough and it stops just short around his ankle. The blood, on the other hand, just keeps flowing and it won’t stop. I wrap him up as tight as I can but the crimson just spreads through. This isn’t going to be enough.

 

A rather violent coughing fit nearly launches Bob off the couch and manages to wake him from his sudden nap; he’s blinking wearily and looking around confused, probably wondering how the Hell he got here. I’m quick to get his attention and he seems to calm down a little, but I don’t think he can hear me telling him that he’ll be okay.

 

“Just rest,” I tell him. “It’ll be fine, I got you.”

 

Pushing him back down is easy. Feeling the fever and hearing how wet his coughs are isn’t. He’s shaking so hard, too. I’m almost afraid to leave him long enough to get a damp washcloth for his forehead. He needs it, though. He needs a lot of things. Things I can’t provide. He’s not going to make it if I don’t.

 

I know what I have to do… but I can’t.

 

I can’t do this. I can’t go back, but he’ll die if I don’t. I can’t take him to the hospital, I don’t have enough supplies here, and I can’t leave him to go get them. This is my only option- but every fiber of my being is screaming ‘don’t do this.’

 

Bob wheezes on the couch with visible breaths moving his blankets. He’s not. Going. To make it. My mind's made up no matter how much it screams at me. He needs help. Help that I can’t give him by myself. But I know someone who can.

 

Quietly I leave Bob on the couch to head back to my room, both for his consideration and my own. He doesn’t need to hear this even if he did like phones. My hands shake as I pull out my phone and dial a number I wanted to forget, and then, I wait.

 

Ring...

 

Ring...

 

Ring...

 

Ring...

 

Click…. Silence. And then a sigh.

 

 

 

“You must be desperate if you’re calling me.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oopsie. Cliff hanger. :P
> 
> FINALLY!
> 
> I've been waiting to post the magically stuffs forever, oi vey.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bob needs help, but it comes at a price. Sometimes, you just can't run away from your past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New character, whoo! Love them as much as I do!
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of blood, stitching, treatment and medication. Please take care of yourself.

 

 

\---

**Chapter 8**

\---

 

“So what’s the deal, Ren? You up and leave the family for a few years and then only pop up when you need something? For shame.”

 

“Cut the shit, Z,” I mutter. “I need your help.” The voice on the other end only hums at me.

 

“So loving. How I’ve missed our chats.”

 

I roll my eyes and lean against the wall, tucking my arms close to me. “How much blood do you have?”

 

“Depends,” they said. “Yours?”

 

“No,” I tell them, looking back to Bob through the doorway. “Dunno what kind.”

 

“So an extra side of ‘O’ with your burger. Where are you?”

 

Silence. I can’t do this. I can’t go back. This is too much, but then Bob coughs harshly, and I’m scared all over again because of how fast it hit him. I know that sound.

 

“Sounds like I need more than blood.”

 

“Your whole kit,” I say. “I’m thinking pneumonia.”

 

“Well, you are the expert on that, aren’t you?” I can hear them scratching something over the phone, probably their chin. “Time’s a-wastin’, Renny-boy.” I scowl hard, and their laugh over the speaker let’s me know they can feel it. “You can’t scare me with that face of yours, kiddo, never have.”

 

“Absolute discretion, Z,” I mutter. “No one can know you’re here, no one can know I called. I can’t come back. I won’t.”

 

Now there’s a disappointed sigh, like I’ve let them down. “I know how the game works, kid, the rules don’t change because you left.” Their voice gets softer and closer to the phone. “To me, you’re just another client. No more, no less. Can you accept that?”

 

I swallow hard, but I know how they work. Business means business. Confidentiality has never been an issue with them. I know this for a fact, but their clients have never up and left on terms such as mine. Bob can be seen shivering on the couch from my place in the doorway. He's not going to make it, he's not, he won't.

 

Quietly, I walk over to my bookshelf and dig around in a Spanish book before shoving the hidden cash in my pocket. I can do this. This is for Bob. With a shaky breath, I open my mouth to whisper. “Northern Trost Hills Apartments. Next to the park. Six-oh-one.”

 

“Fire escape?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

I can hear shuffling on their end. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

 

Suddenly Bob starts coughing again, this one harder than before, and I have to grip the paneling to keep from rushing in. “Make it ten.”

 

.

.

.

 

Bob has stopped coughing so savagely, but has taken to panting deep, slow breaths. He lays there shivering under a pile of blankets with this scrunched up look on his face like he’s concentrating on keeping the coughs at bay. Sina’s curled up purring on his chest, helping him count each breath while she sleeps peacefully. The wait is killing me, so I stay by his side and slip water down his throat when he looks like he needs it. Something else is bothering me though.

 

He wasn’t like this the last time I saw him. Bob was fine, healthy, and looked better than this, even covered in ice. He didn’t cough, he wasn’t pale, and the color in his eyes was a nice brown, if a little on the lighter side. Now every time they flicker open, there’s barely anything around his pupil. It’s like the color just drained away. His eyes are closed now, but I can tell. I know they’re different because he keeps them closed. He knows it too. I can’t stop staring. 

 

“Bob,” I say lowly, and he opens his eyes a crack, still hiding. “How long have you been sick?”

 

Sina perks up, stares, then drops to the floor to crawl under the couch. Bob closed his eyes, still panting and focusing on his breathing. 

 

“Was it the river?”

 

Silence. There’s a heaviness on my shoulder.

 

I scowl. “And you didn’t think to come to me.”

 

Silence, and now he’s slowing his breathing to pretend to sleep.

 

I scowl even further. “Fine.”

 

He frowns too, knowing he hasn’t fooled me and sighing, only to end in a cough. I’m scowling down to my feet when he opens his eyes to look at me with an apology. My eyes flit to him to receive it but he’s looking past me, slightly panicking. The heaviness over my shoulders grows and I sigh, shaking my head to him. “You’d better not have gotten anything on my carpet, you fucking mess.”

 

I can hear a hum through a smile. “Never could sneak up on you, could I? Then again, nobody could.” Bob’s eyes follow their movements but even then, I don’t have to turn around to see them walk up and plop their bag down next to me. “Pretty swanky place you got here, kid.”

 

“Are you done?” I ask. Having them here makes me nervous, which makes me irritated, which makes me snippy. I don’t like this one bit.

 

“Calm down, Renny-boy,” they say, finally sitting down next to me after thoroughly examining my home. “I thought you liked compliments.”

 

I close my eyes into a sigh and tick my head in frustration. “I don’t like any of this.”

 

“I wouldn’t think so.” Their voice has grown warm, just like I remember. “You don’t like much of anything.” 

 

My eyes open to meet their big brown ones, bright enough to shine through their glasses. Their trying to butter me up, trying to put me at ease and my old self would have melted easily, but I’ve grown since then, and my skin is on fire.

 

Zoe Hanji. My old colleague. They haven’t changed a bit. Well. Not by much. Their brown hair has grown longer since the last time I saw them but is still pulled back into a messy pony tail like always. Their clothes are loose and dull, but their shoes are fit perfectly to Hanji’s feet to help when needing a quick escape. They’ve grown some, and put on a little weight, but otherwise, they look the same. Same old, Z.

 

Hanji nods over to Bob while tightening their ponytail and eyeing him. “So, what have we got?”

 

I sigh again, but clear my throat to speak. “Bear trap caught his leg, massive blood loss, dunno what type.” Bob fights it, he really does and I can see it, but he loses to a cough battle and I reach a hand over out of habit before I stop myself. “Coughing, obviously, chills and a fever that won’t break. Wrapped him up and gave him some tylenol but I’m out of supplies and his fever’s not dropping.” 

 

They hum in excitement, moving the blankets and towels from Bob’s leg to inspect my work. “Fascinating,” Hanji mumbles. “Where did you find a bear trap?”

 

“Focus, Z,” I snip. “‘Time’s a-wastin’, remember?”

 

“Oh, relax.” They dig around in their bag to pull out a handful of gauze and a pair of scissors to remove what I put there. “A little curiosity never hurt anyone.”

 

“This is you, we’re talking about here.” Bob looks to me with questions in his eyes but I shake my head lightly. “Just do the bare minimum and be on your way; no time for experiments.”

 

“You’re no fun anymore.” They finish cutting off the bandages from Bob’s leg and dig in their bag again. “What’s your name, pal?”

 

I hold up my hand. “Don’t answer that. In fact, don’t talk at all.” He looks to me, understanding immediately. Hanji doesn’t need to know anything about him except how to fix him up. “You can call him B.” 

 

“Picky, picky. I’ll call you Bean.” They finally have their supplies readily spread over a towel and is filling a bowl with antiseptic. “You allergic to anything, Bean?” Bob shook his head. “Alright then, hold still. This’ll pinch a bit.”

 

Bob’s eyes widen at the syringe in their hand and flinches when they unceremoniously shove it into his calf. When they reach for another needle and do it again, he tenses up, but opens his eyes when he doesn’t feel it pierce his skin. Seems Hanji  is using the good anesthetic today.

 

“You remember how to stitch, Renny?” Hanji asks. “I’m going to need some help on this.” Bob’s leg jolted with a bad coughing fit, shifting the towel beneath his calf and making Hanji yank their hands back. “Especially if he keeps this up.”

 

“Got it,” I sigh, then stand up to go wash my hands. “B, see if you can stretch your leg out on the ottoman so we can both get you.” The only response I hear is a cough and some shuffling. As I’m drying my hands and come back, Bob has already propped himself up in the middle of the couch with his ankle lain between Hanji’s knees. I crouch down on my own and inspect the side of his leg. “You got a spare hook for me?”

 

Haji ticks their tongue. “Don’t I always?”

 

They hand me a threaded, hooked needle and went to prepare their own. Before I started though, I reached over to dunk a cotton ball in antiseptic and catch Bob’s nervous eye. He watches me shake my head and seems to understand that he shouldn’t be afraid. I know I would be. He slowly takes a breath and lets it out, closing his eyes and lacing his fingers over his stomach. God am I glad he trusts me.

 

The stitches don’t take long, and thankfully, Bob doesn’t feel a thing. Every once in awhile he’d fling his hand out to me and shake it a second before submitting to some ravaging coughs. We’d get right back to work after his shaking stopped like nothing happened. It worked out just fine.

 

Hanji wrapped his leg with fresh bandages and set him up with an IV full of blood straight into the crook of his arm after a little finagling with his jacket. Bob even managed to pop himself out of the blankets long enough for them to check his lungs and give him a shot. “You were right,” Hanji mumbled. “It’s a mild case, but still pneumonia.” 

 

They finish up putting a band-aid over Bob’s arm and head to the sink to wash their hands. Meanwhile, I’m busy helping Bob back into the couch and throwing the blankets over him one by one. Once he’s settled, I start cleaning up the bloodied cotton balls and used up stitching kits.“Not so fast, there, kiddo.” Hanji walks over to me, still drying their hands. “You’re next.”

 

It’s only then that I remember my own cuts. They scatter my arms and the deep one across my cheek burns like a mother but, I’m more focused on taking care of Bob. “I can wait.”

 

“You’ve been waiting all night,” Hanji says. “Sit.”

 

Bob nods in agreement, even as he’s drifting to sleep. “Oh, shut up and go to sleep.” He doesn’t need telling twice, and simply nods off. I huff and continue snatching up wadded up cotton balls but Hanji comes over and snags my hands. “Hey- Z!”

 

“You can do that later, simmer down and sit still.” They yank me down to a recliner away from the dropped mess and grab my chin with a hum. “Don’t think I’ll need any silk for this one. Butterflies should be enough.”

 

“Works for me,” I mutter. “Just give me a handful and get out.”

 

“Yappy, yappy, dog, Renny-boy,” Hanji hums. “That’s what you are.” They set to work disinfecting my cheek with a clean cotton ball and even dug out a razor to shave my cheek, their eyes locked onto my cut. We sit in silence. For maybe two minutes. “I’m glad you called me.”

 

I scoff. “Wish I could say the same.”

 

“Relax, kid,” they mutter. “Anyone who can get out needs to stay out; I’m not going to rat on you. I’m just happy you made it okay.” They look to me with those big, brown eyes again, much more sincere. “I was worried about you.”

 

A sigh slips out and I rub at my eyes. Hanji was a good friend. Hanji took care of me. Hanji could be trusted. Only if I worked with them in return. They taught me everything I know on back alley medicine and even a few tricks of the trade with the rest of the team, but when I left, I never looked back. I didn’t expect them to welcome me with open arms and I still don’t. Thinking that they don’t care for me is a lie, but thinking that they hold a grudge against me because of how much they cared… that’s what I was afraid of. 

 

Looking into their eyes now, I don’t see the hatred or betrayal I thought I would. They’re not trying to drag me back, or expose me; they just want me safe. They want me in the life I live, the one that I made for myself- and I have to breathe to keep it together.

 

They go back to work sticking butterfly stitches over my cheek. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at Maria’s.”

 

Deep breaths. Deep, fucking breaths.

 

“Forget it,” I mumble. “I got taken care of.”

 

“Yeah, but you still got marked up.” Hanji made a point of tickling my neck and wrist. “I probably wouldn’t have done any better but, still. I could have at least made them look cool.”

 

“Fucking drop it, Z,” I growl. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

 

They tsked. “Touchy.”

 

“You would be too.”

 

We grow quiet again, and Hanji finishes with my cheek to move onto my arms. They dipped a new cotton ball in antiseptic and started rubbing it up and down my arm. “I have a new guy now. Well, not really new, but new-ish.”

 

“Do I really wanna know?” I ask.

 

“He was your predecessor.” They start covering me with band-aids as they speak. “He left for a little while and then came back.”

 

What an unlucky son of a bitch. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be. He seems to have the same mindset as myself.” Hanji finishes with the first arm and moves onto the next, drenching another cotton ball. “And don’t say it to me either. If anyone needed to get out, it was you.” Hanji stopped and lifted their eyes to me. “I never blamed you for leaving, Ren.”

 

Breathe.  _ Breathe _ .

 

They finish up with my arm and set to work cleaning up with a sigh. “Keep an eye on him. He’s weaker than he should be. I’m assuming I don’t have to tell you how to treat his pneumonia for the next few weeks?” I nod, and start rolling up my sleeve while they dig around in their bag. “I’d also guess you’re going to need some preemptive action against catching it yourse-” They stop mid-sentence when they see I already have my sleeve rolled up for the shot they’re holding in their hand. “Good boy.”

 

“Ew,” I cringe. “Don’t say that.” 

 

“Unless I plan on buying you dinner first?” Their smile is just as mad as I’m used to when they dig the needle into my arm. “Gonna have to turn you down on that one, Renny-boy; not into angsty boy-banders or jealous boyfriends. Although I do lik’em young.”

 

“First of all, fuck you.” I'm busy pulling out the thick wad of cash from earlier to get them out of my home. “Second, you’re going to have to give me some nausea meds if you plan on continuing to speak.” 

 

“No time for that, I’m afraid.” Their grin grows impossibly wider as they snatch the money out of my hand and stuff it in their pocket. “You’ve gotta get Beanie-baby over there back on his feet so you can knock’im back into bed.” 

 

“Okay,  _ no _ ,” I shake my hands out in front of Hanji to deny the idea but they just turn their back to me, packing their things. “Not what this is!”

 

“Yeah, yeah.” They have their gear all set up and slung over their shoulder, heading out as they speak to me. They stop, however, before they can make it through my bedroom doorway. Hanji’s voice dropped lower and softer, meaning their words. “It was good seeing you again, Ren. I hope I don’t have to anytime soon.”

 

My head hangs low, but I nod in agreement. “Me too.”

 

With that, Hanji shifts their bag over their shoulder and heads to the fire escape. I listen for the window to close before I start cleaning up, and sigh when I do. Tonight has been nothing but an emotional rollercoaster, and I am  _ so  _ ready for bed. I skip a shower in favor of washing my hands and slip into some clean pajamas before wolfing down a PBJ. Once I’m done with my own food and switch out Bob’s blood pack for an IV, I drop onto my mattress with a heavy sigh. I can’t sleep, though.

 

Almost an hour passes and even though I could sleep for a year, I can’t get to bed. Bob’s coughing has gone down but it’s still there. And what if he needs me in the middle of the night? He can’t call to me, he can’t get up. He’d be stuck all night without any help. 

 

I huff angrily and get out of bed, dragging my blanket behind me from across my shoulders. The chair isn’t as comfortable as the couch and it doesn’t even compare to my bed, but it gives me something more to work with than the floor. Within a few minutes, I finally feel comfortable enough to drift off to sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the relationship Jean has with Hanji, I really do. 
> 
>  
> 
> I'm wanting to get a few more chapters out tonight so here's hoping! Tell me what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter tonight, there will be more soon though, promise
> 
> WARNING: Starts out with another panic attack. Please take care of yourself and look out for the *s.

 

 

\---

**Chapter 9**

\---

*

Running. Running, jumping, running, running, trip, fall, no, no, no, no. Protect, hide, curl, roll, pain, no, pain, no, no, no, no. There’s so many, surrounded, trapped, trapped, can’t get away from him, get leave, can’t fight, no, can’t, can’t, can’t, can’t. Tearing, scratching, blood, pain, no, blood, biting, no- I shouldn’t be here, wake up, no. Pain, scratching, biting, biting, growling, hissing, eyes, different, blur, demon eyes- this isn’t right, wake up- claws, teeth, ripping, biting, scratching, pain, no, no, no, no stop, help- this isn’t right, this isn’t right this isn’t right WAKE UP!

 

**

 

I can hear my alarm going off in my bedroom, faint but still there through the roaring in my ears. Sina notices my breathing and comes to sniff my face, unable to pur into my chest because of my knees curled up in the way, so she starts licking instead. Breathe. Breathe. This one was different. This one had the demons too. It was just a dream. Just a bad dream. Breathe.

 

My hands shake when I reach out to Sina, holding her close to me as I try to straighten out my head. The sky is dimly lit with the waking sun, and my alarm continues to ring without me. I need to get up. I need to get ready for work. I need to go. 

 

Like Hell.

 

I get up from the recliner, rush into my room to turn off my alarm and scurry back to my seat with Sina still clung to my chest the whole way. My phone is around here somewhere, there’s still time to find a sub before my classes start. Last night was awful, filled with killer monsters, angry cabbies, dying Bobs and deadly doctors. Add in the nightmares that leave me pretty much useless for hours and I need a freaking break. I deserve one. There were way too many attacks on my personal being yesterday and none of which could be explained without serious repercussions.

 

As far as anyone else is concerned: I got mugged.

 

.

.

.

 

The sun is brighter now, but not by much. It took me a while to calm down enough to sit in the chair again, and thankfully, Sina didn’t get tired of being cuddled while I paced around for a few hours. In that time, I had changed Bob’s fluids again, grateful for the spare and the fact that he seemed to be soaking it all up. His leg looked okay too, from the quick glimpse I got. His fever was still high, but it didn’t feel as though it were rising as steadily as before. He seems to be doing well- that does wonders for my nerves.

 

My feet ached by the time I pull the blankets back over myself and get ready for more sleep. Nestling into the recliner helped my tired body settle in the crook between the arm and the seat, and I could already feel the heavy sigh I wanted to breathe out once I formed against the cushioning. Sleep is okay. Sleep is what I need. I’ll be okay now.

 

I’m just barely on the cusp of sleep, in between the realm of the living and subconscious when I hear it. There’s shuffling across from me, and muffled coughing. My eyes stay closed, not really able to open just yet. The shuffling continues and I can hear breathless groaning accompanying it, allowing Bob to sit up. After a minute or two, laces begin twisting around the other, and boots tap the ground quietly. He’s still for a moment, taking in his surroundings before movement happens again, and he’s walking on pained steps.

 

“Bob.” My eyes are still closed but he freezes at the sound of my voice. “Get back in bed.” He sighs, but I don’t bother moving. I just got comfortable. “This isn’t a cold you can just sleep off. If you go out there now, you  _ will  _ die; and I don’t think your little magic tricks can bring you back.” Now I open my eyes to catch his own. “Then who would protect the park?”

 

He perks up at that, confused as to how I know. “You’re not that hard to read after a while.” Sina kneads at my arms from where she’s perched on my shoulder, stretching her claws out sleepily. “Besides. You owe me some answers. I think I deserve at least that after last night.” 

 

His shoulders drop and he frowns, but nods all the same. Without any other persuading, he lowers his jacket back down to the ottoman and readjusts his IV higher over where he’s got it latched onto his shoulder. Then the atmosphere changes. Bob rubs a finger under his nose, still frowning but differently this time. He’s uncomfortable, obviously, but kind of… embarrassed too.

 

“What?” I grumble, and he winces. After a short coughing fit, Bob slowly lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck and pointed to my bedroom, looking down to the floor in embarrassment. I look over to my door and back again, not really making a connection what with my sleep deprived brain and all. Not to mention, panic attacks don’t do well for the mind either. It wasn’t until he grabbed his belt loop that I realized- “Oh.”

 

Bob cringed again and nodded to the floor. Unbelievable. “Oh, grow up. If you need to take a piss don’t be so antsy about it, just go.” I pulled my blanket tighter around my shoulders and curled closer into my little nook in the recliner to get comfortable again. “Sweats are in the top drawer if you want’em. Sorry about your pants.”

 

I close my eyes and sigh again, willing myself to sleep. I can hear his faltered steps move on slowly through my bedroom, stopping briefly to open and shut my dresser drawers before the bathroom door finally clicks shut. Guess I didn’t need to worry about him moving around that much. He’s not a complete invalid after all.

 

A few minutes later I can hear him limping back with labored breaths and a few coughs sprinkled in here and there. He dropped unceremoniously onto the couch and heaved a sigh before he unlaced his boots and set them aside. I cracked an eye open to see him flinging the blankets over his long legs and hook his IV back into place on a spare hanger next to the couch before finally relaxing back into bed. His eyes wandered the ceiling for a moment and his thumbs wrestled the other over his chest, but after a while, sleep came back to him, and he closed his eyes to welcome it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean finally knocks some sense into Bob, the poor thing. See you soon~


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Answers to questions that lead only to more questions... Great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes, I'm catching up to my current chapters! 0.0

 

 

\---

Chapter 10

\---

 

I'm not sure how long we slept but by the time the sun was burning up the sky, my stomach decided it would be a good idea to get my ass out of bed. Bob struggled to stay asleep too, but a round of coughing beat him once again, and he was forced awake. He looked to me with heavily bagged eyes and offered a worn out smile as a good morning, only to hide more coughs into his elbow. From the looks of things, that battle for sleep seemed to have gone on for a bit.

 

“You alright?” I asked, patting his good leg as I walked past and he nodded weakly into his arm. “Best I can make for you right now would probably be oatmeal. That okay?” He waved his hand dismissively and tucked his nose into the back of the couch. Poor guy looks exhausted. “You don’t have to eat it all as long as you get something in your stomach. Trust me, you don’t want to take any meds until you do.”

 

Bob winced but nodded all the same. His eyes were closed, still trying desperately to catch whatever sleep he could. Fuck knows he needs it. I replace his water bottle and set to work getting breakfast for us, only to return to a fidgeting Bob a few minutes later.

 

“Do I want to know?” I asked, handing him his bowl. Bob smiled strangely and nodded the bowl in thanks before shoving a cough into his elbow. “Let it out. The more you cough, the better you get.” He peeked out from his arm, grimacing at my words. “Even though it hurts.”

 

A sigh shook from his lips and he nodded, shifting to steady his breakfast over his chest. He looked around for a moment as he chewed on a small bite of oatmeal, then raised his hand in a writing motion. One of my notebooks and pens was held out to him a moment later and he took the opportunity to scribble his words.

 

‘More experience?’

 

“Yeah,” I nod. Sina pawed at my breakfast and meowed sweetly at me, but I shooed her away. Oatmeal upsets her stomach. “Used to get pneumonia a lot as a kid. I do not envy you, my friend.”

 

That got a weak, breathy chuckle out of him paired with a handful of just as weak coughs. Bob stirred his food around idly while he chewed, slowly trying to get it down his throat. He held his eyes low to his food, and made no effort to engage in much more contact after that. He’s stalling, and he knows I know it. When he peeks up at me a few minutes later, there’s no surprise in his colorless eyes when he locks onto mine. He’d been waiting for me.

 

A heavy sigh closed his eyes for him, and he swallowed slowly before opening them and looked to me readily. I let my bowl stay in my hands, but my eyes never left his through all of this. “What were those things?”

 

He stared for a moment before writing down his answer.

 

‘Imps. Annoying on their own but dangerous all together. You saw so yourself.’

 

He paused a moment, biting his lip as he struggled with himself before tentatively putting his pen to the pad again.

 

‘They were the reason I left that night.’

 

I blinked, trying to think back to the night when all this drama started. “The bushes,” I whispered, and he nodded. Guess it wasn’t ‘just the wind.’ I looked up to find him studying me, but I’m I’m not angry anymore. I’m past that now. “Are there others?”

 

Bob gave me a curious look.

 

“Monsters, Bob.” Okay, now I’m getting annoyed. He’s still trying to play dumb. “What other monsters are out there? Are they bigger? Stronger? What do I need to be prepared for?” He shook his head and hand, but I won’t take the bait. “Damn it, Bob, whatever I saw last night happened, and if it happened once then it can happen again and on a bigger scale! Where do they hide? How do they move? Can we kill them? Do they kill us- what? Why?

 

“Lying to me only puts us both in danger and if you keep doing things on your own it’ll only make things worse. I’m not some useless kid who needs coddling- if anything you’re the one who’s been in trouble from the start! Why can’t you figure out that I can help you? I can! But I have to know what’s wrong first now tell me what I want to know!”

 

The sound of fluid gurgling in his lungs hit me before the coughing fit did, and it took a few torturous minutes of him coughing before he could even try to continue. Sina ran off from the sudden noise, hiding somewhere neither of us could see, and finally, we were alone. We stayed quiet as Bob steadied his breaths again, the two of us staring the other down until we were ready to talk again. More civil this time. At first, Bob reached for the notebook again but his hand stopped in the air mid-thought. Then, he caught my eyes and rubbed his fist over his heart.

 

‘I’m sorry.’

 

Sign language. He’s trying to speak with sign language.

 

‘Myself.’

 

‘Thoughts.’

 

‘You.’

 

‘No.’

 

Slowly, his hands fumble around as he tries to remember the words he needs but he’s moving so slowly that I can barely read him. That paired with my impatience makes me all the more annoyed, so I hold my own hand up. “Bob- I appreciate the sentiment but-” I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose before I snap at him again. My eyes catch his and we stare at each other for a moment before I pick up the notebook again and hold it out to him. “Why don’t you just start at the beginning.”

 

He stares at the notebook for a long while before slowly reaching out and taking it with another sigh and a nod. After a few minutes, he scribbles again.

 

‘There are monsters in this world, and it’s my job to make sure they don’t hurt anyone.’

 

I’m quiet for a bit while I soak in the words. “So there are others.”

 

He nodded slowly.

 

“Are you one of them?”

 

A pause, then another nod.

 

My eyes study him. Bob’s expression is hard, controlled, but I can tell that he’s nervous, if even a little. His shoulders are tense, his hands fisted, and even if he doesn’t say anything, I know that my reaction is important to him. It shouldn’t be.

 

“Is that why your eyes look like dirty water?”

 

Bob blinked, completely thrown off by my question and he forgot to be scared. He lifted a hand to his eye without thinking before he stopped short, thought, then tilted it slightly in front of his face for the motion of ‘mirror.’ It took me a hot minute to find one and it would have been a Hell of a lot easier if he just let me use the camera on my phone but, I ended up finding a mirror for him to use anyways.

 

A harsh coughing fit hit him again before Bob could properly check his reflection but once his shoulders stopped shaking, he peered closely at his face, and even pulled at the skin beneath his eye. It felt like he stared at his eyes for a good ten minutes before he looked back to me and blinked, a little unsettled.

 

“Do they normally not change?” I asked, but he shook his head and hand again, dismissing the idea. He bit his lip and rubbed his thumb over his finger before writing again.

 

‘I didn’t realize how light they had gotten.’

 

I frowned, still confused. “Is that a bad thing?” He winced, not keeping eyes with me. “How bad?” He chewed on his lip and ran a finger under his nose, stifling a cough. This little shit. “Bob-” Finally, he sighed and shoved his pen to the paper. After a minute, he handed it over to me.

 

‘The darker it is, the stronger you are, and vise versa. The lighter it is, the weaker you are. No color means no power; no power means no life.’

 

Oh, I am pissed. I shot up from the ottoman and started pacing, my hands fisting at my sides as I hiss deeply and try not to explode on Bob. There’s barely any color in his eyes at all. Literally, it looks like a paint brush rinsed off it’s water color in a clean cup there’s so little color. He almost died. He almost fucking died and he didn’t even know it; he didn’t even care. Bob fought off an army of monsters and was going to go back out on the streets. He almost left my home, almost walked out to bury himself in a ditch, and he didn’t even stop to think that maybe he should slow down for a minute. What a selfish son of a bitch.

 

Those colorless eyes follow me as I pace and finally plop back down into my seat across from him, burying my face in my hands. “Don’t.” I can feel his hand in the air, feel it waver. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Bob.” His hand went back down without a fight. Slowly, I took a deep breath and let it out before I slid my hands away from my face and glared at Bob. He actually flinched from the force of my stare.

 

“You selfish bastard,” I mutter, and he looks confused. “Your life does matter, idiot. Dying only hurts the people around you so take better fucking care of yourself. Do you have any idea how fucked up I was over you these past few weeks?” His eyes widen, but I don’t stop. “I had no idea where you were, how you were doing, if you were okay- nothing! And all this time, you were this close to death- you almost fucking died in my arms because you didn’t want anything to do with me, I fucking swear, that’s got to be the most selfish thing I have ever seen in my whole fucking life!”

 

My rant is finally over because I realize that I failed on not blowing up on Bob again, and he stares at me with wide eyes. I stare right back, but it’s a mixture of emotion. Anger, embarrassment, annoyance, take your pick. It takes a few minutes before the silence finally gets to me and I murmur the question I was hoping I didn’t have to ask.

 

“Bob, do you even want to live?”

 

That seems to disturb him, actually. He frowns and nods, but then Bob lowered his gaze to slowly write in his notebook.

 

‘I do, but there are others who don’t.’

 

“What others?” I frown.

 

‘My kind.’

 

My frown deepened and I stared harder at him. “What do you mean? What ‘kind’?”

 

He quirked his mouth with a little shrug and wrote his answer.

 

‘I’m a witch.’

 

My eyes widen and I think my heart skipped a beat. “Witches are real?”

 

He looked at me, a little shocked but nodded all the same. He furrowed his brow as he wrote what he wanted next, eyeing me every once in awhile.

 

‘You seem to be taking this rather well.’

 

Now I frown. “Bob, I just got my ass kicked by some tiny little gremlins who wanted to eat me. You could tell me Bigfoot is living in the park and I'd believe you.” I stop and look to Bob seriously. “Wait, he's not-”

 

Bob shook his head and made the sign for fake, putting me at ease. He took this time to flip over to a new page, biting his lip in thought. His eyes searched the ceiling as he pondered before they went back to me with a guilty shrug.

 

‘I actually thought you were a witch too when I first met you.’

 

“What- me? Why?” He laughed a little at my reaction, causing a couple coughs to slip out and nabbed him a few seconds to stall. “Seriously, what the Hell made you think I was a ghosty?”

 

He shook his head with a smirk.

 

‘A witch, not a ghost; though that is part of the reason why I thought you were one in the first place. I kind of still do, to be honest.’

 

I looked to him impatiently for an answer.

 

‘First it was your eyes. Their color looked like a witch’s so I thought you might be a low level one, since you’re too old to be a trainee. Then there was the fact that you saw ghosts and reacted to them. Having Sina as your companion didn’t help things at ALL but, once I figured out how clueless you were, I figured you were either a benign witch, or a really good actor.’

 

“Okay, wait a second.” I have to hold my hands up to physically stop the words from hurting my brain any further. “First of all: what ghosts? I’ve never seen a ghost in my life. And what does this have to do with Sina?”

 

Bob held up his hands in a placating gesture, sensing my protectiveness coming alive around my cat all over again. Sina seemed to feel my discomfort as well and came crawling back out from the depths of the shadows to rub up against my leg.

 

‘Relax, she’s fine. You see dead things, whether you’d like to believe it or not, and Sina is a witch’s cat. Your cat. You’re a witch- or at least your bloodline probably was.’

 

“Bob. You’re going to want to explains things much better than that.” My glare has a whole new level of danger written all over my face and he knows it. He coughed into his elbow before holding his hand up again and writing.

 

‘One thing at a time: those kids in the park. You saw them, yes?’

 

I nodded.

 

‘One is a little girl; long brown hair and a pink and yellow dress. She usually has a toy that she’s chasing.’

 

I nod again.

 

‘The other is a boy. He looks a little younger than her and wears a hat. He’s usually running around with a ball or playing tag, right?’

 

“Get to the point, Bob.”

 

‘They’re dead. Have been for a long time.’

 

I deadpan at him. Loudly.

 

‘You always get chills around them, don’t you?’

 

“So what? That doesn’t mean-’

 

‘Do you ever see them again after they pass you?’

 

I blink down at the paper he’s shoved under my nose and don’t have an answer for him. Do I? I don’t know, I don’t remember. Surely they were still there, I heard them but… I never really felt them. Gramma always said I had a gift. “Holy shit.”

 

Sina hops into my lap demanding to be pet and my hands absentmindedly stroke her back. Bob takes back the notepad to scribble down some more.

 

‘They’re locals of the park, that’s why it’s easier for you to see them. Sina helps amplify your abilities as well.’

 

“What does Sina have to do with this?” My voice is quiet but slightly panicky and my arms curl around her protectively. Bob shakes his hand in front of me to try and calm me down before writing again.

 

‘How long have you had her?’

 

My mind is scrambling, but thinking back on my family helps to focus my thoughts. “Um,” I cleared my throat. “I started living with Sina and Gramma when I was seventeen, so, about twelve years?” Bob nodded and gently held up his paper to me.

 

‘How long had your grandmother had her before that?’

 

Time seems to slow down then, and I can hear everything. My heartbeat, my breathing, even the ticking of the clock in my kitchen. Sina has stopped demanding attention and sat perfectly still in my lap, staring up at me. I stare right back, because the longer I think about it, the more I realize that Sina has been in my life since the start. My parents didn’t really get along with Gramma much when I was a child but from the few glimpses I saw of her, I can’t remember a time when Gramma didn’t have Sina by her side.

 

Sina stares up at me with her big, green eyes and seems to understand that I’m processing her existence in my head. I swallow, and she actually nods at me once when I open my mouth to ask a wordless question. Holy fucking shit. She taps a paw against my hand to bring me back to the real world and I have to focus on breathing so I don’t flip my shit. Thankfully, Bob has his paper ready to keep me occupied.

 

‘She’s not a normal cat. She’s strong, stronger than anyone knows, and because of this, she’s probably lived for centuries. Most likely following your family.’

 

My hand rubs over my mouth to pick it up from off the floor. “So,” I mutter. “I have a magic cat.”

 

A sudden snort sends Bob into what looks like a painful coughing fit, and after a minute, he finally writes out:

 

‘Well, that’s one way of putting it.’

 

I look between Sina and Bob with a weary eye. “... Can she talk?”

 

Bob shook his head, but wrote something down.

 

‘No talking, but she can understand you. She may answer some questions for you if you do it nicely. That’s how I found out what you were.’

 

Okay, now I’m confused. I shake my head with a frown. “Neither of you can talk but she told you I was a- wait, what did you call me?”

 

‘A benign witch. Since you have no idea what I’m talking about, I’m going to assume it’s safe to say you’ve never been taught magic. Either no one ever told you or no one knew, but it does follow the bloodline. Sometimes it skips a generation or two but- someone somewhere in your family was a witch, and they passed it onto you.’

 

I scrunch up my face in confusion. This is all so fucked up. “That doesn’t make any sense, though. I can’t pull any rabbits out of hats- and I’m pretty sure my family can’t either. My parents were weird but not so weird that anything screamed ‘witch’ when you walked past them.” I shake my head. “You’ve got to be wrong; there’s no way I’ve got any hocus pocus in me.”

 

Bob studied me for a second before scribbling again.

 

‘Were they picky about your name?’

 

I blink. “Picky how?”

 

‘Like, did they give you two names? One for the public and one you could only use at home?’

 

My frown grows and I shake my head. “No, they never did anything like that. They didn’t even like nicknames… Why?”

 

What the Hell is he getting at? Bob bit his lip, still looking at me while thinking, and it took him a minute to write down his answer.

 

‘Names have power. If you know the name of something or someone, you can use a spell against it. Giving your name to someone in the witch’s world is simply too dangerous, so we each have two names: one for public, one for private.’

 

My eyes scroll up to his but flit away after a moment. I’m almost afraid to ask. “Is that why you won’t give me your name?”

 

Bob quirked his lips, not sure how to answer.

 

‘Kind of.’

 

I licked my own lips before turning my eyes back to his directly. “Is that how you lost your voice?”

 

The look on Bob’s face sent a mother fucking spear right through my heart. He swallows to keep something locked down inside of him and nods affirmation, but he doesn’t have to. The pain and betrayal said it all. My gaze lowers and I nod as well, not really able to speak as loudly as I had before. “I see.”

 

We stay quiet for a while, each of us dealing with our own demons against this issue and trying to figure out how to move on. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all, to be honest. Apparently, my ancestors were magic, and so is Bob. Bob ended up getting hurt because of these ju-ju-jack-off’s, and now he’s stuck picking up the pieces.

 

Something happened. It could have been that Bob got lazy and let it slip, but I don’t see that happening. He’s careful- way too careful. He trusted someone and they turned on him. I can’t help but feel for him; some sort of mutual bond or whatever bullshit you want to call it. I understand him a lot more now. Being hurt like that isn’t something you just get over.

 

I cleared my throat and stood up, silently asking for Bob’s half empty bowl or if he was even done with it. He handed it over without pause but looked to me quietly. “You look exhausted,” I tell him. “I’ll get you some meds but you should sleep. Sleep, drink and cough; it’ll be over before you know it.” He smiled at me, snorting a little but nodded acceptance.

 

Not long after, he took the pills I gave him and settled into the couch with Sina curling up beside his neck. Something on my face must have given away how many more questions I had for him though, and he prodded me on the wrist. I can’t ask him though. I have way too many questions to ask before the meds kick in, and honestly, I could probably have him sit me down for days telling me everything I want to know and it still wouldn’t be done. Still though, I frowned, and gave in anyway because this is a lot to take in. “Are you… are you really sure there’s some witch in me?”

 

Bob looked me right in the eye as he nodded, then a small smile spread over his lips, and he reached for his notepad.

 

‘You wanna know what really tipped me off?’

 

My head snaps up to him, curious all over again. He bit his lip around a smile and tilted the pad towards himself so I wouldn’t see. When he finished, his eyes glinted at me for a moment before he flipped the notebook around.

 

‘The squirrels were dead too.’

 

Squirrels? I look back to Bob, completely confused before I remember: “Way back then?!” Bob laughed silently at me; a full blown, belly rumbling laugh before the coughs got to him again and sent him into a fit. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! Those overgrown rats were ghosts?”

 

Bob’s humored smile doesn’t lessen at all as he finishes hacking out his lungs and stares at me, no trace of lies on him whatsoever. Unbelievable.

 

“Go to bed, asshole,” I gripe at him, and his smile only widens. Bob chuckles to himself while he curls back into the couch and pets Sina. I run off back to the kitchen to clean out our dishes and get ready for the day. When I come back, Bob is asleep. The creases over his brow is back again and I can tell he worked hard to get that nap, so I don’t feel bad about leaving a packet of crackers next to him on the ottoman. He can have it when he wakes up.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting to add the supernatural/monster tab to this story for weeks, I'm so satisfied.
> 
> Lemme know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleaning up messes takes more than bleach wipes. Especially in Jean's experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bits of fluff and not so fluff.

 

 

\---

**Chapter 11**

\---

 

“Damn it…”

 

I stare at my reflection in the mirror with disgust. Of fucking course I forgot about Hanji’s little adventure with the razor last night. The bastard didn’t even bother to get the whole cheek, just one, awkward line right over the cut on my cheek that reminded me of a lawnmower through tall grass. I talked to Bob like this. I had a serious, life altering conversation with him, and I looked like a Hunger Games character while doing it. Fan-fucking-tastic. Hanji did this on purpose, I know it. 

 

I put my toothbrush back in place and pick up my razor instead- there’s nothing worse than shaving with toothpaste stuck in your beard. If anything, the line of trimmed skin kept the shaving foam out of my cut at least, and it made it a little easier when I didn’t have to worry about irritating my stitches. My skin is a little sensitive, but it’s hardly the worst pain I’ve ever had to deal with. It’s healing up fine enough.

 

The fresh air on my face feels sudden and cold, and it makes me shiver a bit. How long has it been since I shaved? It almost feels like I’m a brand new person without the beard. I shake my head and focus on replacing the butterfly stitches over my cut. Personal hygiene aside, it was time for a shave anyways, so what’s the big deal?

 

The mental list of things I have to do today stacks up in my head as I brush my teeth. Go to the bank. Kiss up to the board for skipping out with ‘proof’ of being attacked. Get proof. Go get some more groceries so Bob and I don’t starve. Get Bob new pants after I shamelessly ruined the only pair he hand. Way to go, loser. Get rid of Bob’s medical stuff where no one can trace it back to us. Keep my eyes out for anything that wants to kill me. Try not to run into any demons or ghosts… My lists were so much simpler before I met Bob.

 

His shredded, bloodied jeans are folded up in the corner next to the shower, and it looks to me like Bob might want to save them. Ha. Very funny. I pick them up and promptly dunk them into the trash with a bit too much force before I realize that he’s going to need a replacement pair, and I don’t know his size. It’s easy enough to dig them out and find out for myself, no biggie. No one has to know about my temporary lapse of common sense.

 

When I’m finally dressed and ready to go, I step out of the room only to stop in the doorway. Bob and Sina haven’t moved an inch since he fell asleep. He’s finally comfortable enough to keep from coughing every sixty-seconds but looks like he’s been run over by a truck a few dozen times. Sina sleeps just as peacefully atop his shoulder, nesting into his hair and purring so loudly that I can hear her from across the room. I’m surprised Bob hasn’t woken up yet.

 

The IV hanging over the couch is just about empty, and with that being the last one, it should be safe enough now for Bob to try keeping fluids on his own. I’m careful when taking the blankets off over his arm. Slowly, they’re pulled aside layer by layer until I finally see the flesh of his arm, and gently tug at the tape surrounding the IV in the crook of his elbow.

 

Now, something that’s always bothered me when it comes to the medical world  is Hollywood. In the movies, this would be where the hero rips out their IV and books it out the door. That’s a big, fat  _ no  _ for me. 

 

For one thing, that hurts. Like, a lot. That little, plastic tube has been sitting in your flesh for a long time and your body tried to heal over it, so there’s definitely going to be more trouble when you rip it out. For another, it’s unsafe. One wrong move and you could really damage your vein, and if you don’t stop the bleeding after pulling the tube out, it won’t stop. Again, this is coming from your VEIN. You know, the highway for your blood to your heart? So yeah. There’s a bit of protocol when taking out an IV. 

 

This has been your public service announcement from your local, back-alley knowledged asshole. Thanks for listening. Don’t try this at home, kids.

 

For all my whining though, I’m serious. I’m careful when taking it out of Bob’s arm and shove a cotton ball to the hole that much harder when it’s gone. I guess he must have felt it happening because Bob stirred a little and woke up.

 

Hazy eyes flutter open and closed, and his face crumples in confusion when he tries and fails to move his arm. As though he were drugged- which, he probably- okay, actually is- Bob lolled his head over to look at his arm, and then me, still struggling to keep his eyes open.

 

“Hey,” I whisper. “Making things a little easier for you.” He watches as I strap a band-aide over the cotton ball and bury his arm back under the blankets. “I’m going to be heading out for a bit. Got some stuff I need to do.” I turn my eyes back to him, and I can see that he’s trying so hard to stay awake for this. “Just rest up. I’ll be back soon.”

 

Slowly, Bob nodded to me, consequently nuzzling deeper into his pillow. When Sina started grooming his hair to make him stop moving her in her sleep, he was a goner. Bob was out before I could even stand back up. I chuckled at the pair with a shake of my head. Pitter-patter.

 

The IVs and used up gause end up rolling together nicely so I can stuff them into a bag. The needle that had been stuck in Bob’s arm all night was just a plastic tube that I didn’t need to worry about piercing anything, but still. Hazardous medical waste and all that. I’m sure I can find a dumpster a few blocks over no problem but really, I wish I had some diapers or something to wrap this up in so people don’t go snooping… Wait a minute.

 

Sina = cat. 

 

Cat = litter box. 

 

Litter box = perfect dissuasion.

 

Well, at least she’s good for something. 

 

I make sure Bob has the TV remote, a water bottle and some crackers within reach of him before I head out with my booty quietly. My bag sits heavily on my shoulder with the quadruple-wrapped bag of  shit holding Bob’s medical waste and I can’t get out of there sooner. Hannes, on the other hand, has another idea. 

 

Stupid Bitch and her whiney little brat gave him Hell last night when Sina and I ran through here. Great. Now I’ve got to worry about the fine for not having her on a leash. Fucking swear. I can’t wait for Stupid Bitch’s lease to be up. From the look on Hannes’ face, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.

 

Whatever. My list is getting bigger the longer I stay here. I’ve got things to do, and not enough fucks to give. What a wonderful start to my day.

 

.

.

.

 

“Oh my God!” Armin rushes over to me to examine my face, but quickly retracts his hand before he can touch me. “You really did get mugged! Are you alright?”

 

Guess I shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly the gossip spreads around here. Like wildfire, only worse. Fortunately, the bags under my eyes and gash along my cheek was enough to convince the higher ups of my story without having to actually file a police report or dig up a thug. Unfortunately, it also convinced Armin.

 

“I’m fine, Armin,” I tell him, but turn my head all the same. He doesn’t need to be looking at that. “Just some kid who needed a little cash, nothing to worry about. How did the sub do?”

 

Between all of my different classes, it’s pretty much Hell having every exam for every class all on the same week. I’d never sleep. Thankfully, the board allowed me to break it up between the morning classes on one week, and the evening classes on the next. The only thing I had to do was show up- but since that wasn’t an option for today, I’ve got to at least make sure the substitute covered my ass. From the look on Armin’s face though, I can’t get a solid read.

 

“She was fine,” he said, still frowning at me. “She didn’t understand a word at all but, she didn’t really have to if you think about it. All she did was sit there and make sure we didn’t cheat.”

 

“Works for me.” What a relief. Armin is still looking at me though. Damn it. “Fine.” I sigh and turn back to him so Armin can touch my face. He’s gentle when he pulls me a little closer to his height, but doesn’t touch the skin after that. Whatever he sees seems to satisfy him enough to let me go with a sigh of his own. “All good?”

 

“No,” he grumbles. “But good enough. I’m just hoping you don’t scar.”

 

“And ruin my devilishly good looks?” I grin at him. “Armin, you have so little faith in me.”

 

He rolls his eyes at that and pushes me away, not bothering to cover his smirk. It doesn’t take long to slip away, though, and he looks to the ground while rubbing his arm. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

 

I roll my eyes. “ _ Yes _ .” Okay. So I may have said that a little to harshly, but, come on. It’s just a cut. “Stop worrying about me like some old nanny; I’ve cut myself worse from shaving.”

 

Armin looks especially put out from me scolding him, but he nods all the same. It’s slight but I finally notice how puffy his eyes are, like he’s been up staring at a computer screen for days without blinking. His hair is a mess too; what’s normally silky smooth is kinky, and not in a good way. Best guess would be that he didn’t brush it this morning. I tilt my head to him and cock a brow in silent question, scrolling my eyes up and down his haggard form. A blush spreads over Armin’s cheeks at my scrutiny, and he looks like he’s about to say something when Eren walks into the room. 

 

My least favorite sausage looks exhausted, barely standing on his feet as he drags himself in. Dried mud tracks in from his boots and it looks like he lost a fight with his hairbrush this morning. Dark circles hang under his eyes and his shoulders slump forward as he walks. He looks terrible. When he catches sight of my face, however, his back straightens out, and his eyes light up wild and panicked. Eren instantly dashes over to me and roughly grabs my face, the backs of his hands and arms dried with dirt and smudges now all over my cheeks. 

 

“What happened?!” 

 

“What the Hell?!” I have to shove him off of me because of how hard he’s gripping my now filthy face. “You trying to break my jaw or something- that hurt! And what the fuck is on your hands? That better be mud!”

 

Eren doesn’t take his eyes off me, instead, he charges forward again to try and get a better look at me while I fight him off. “Who did this to you? What happened? Tell me!”

 

We struggle against the other, Eren trying to grab at me and me trying to shove him off. Armin steps away from us, and I can’t really get a good look at him because of the whole ‘Eren trying to jump me’ thing but I think he looks scared, anxious even. I don’t even think Eren noticed. He’s so focused on clawing at me, trying to get to my face that he doesn’t even look sane anymore- not that he had much sanity to begin with. The anger grows in his features, and frustration goes right along with it, and I can see him getting desperate. Armin must see it too, because as soon as Eren reaches his arm back for a punch, Armin finally jumps in to stop him.

 

“He got mugged!” 

 

That stops Eren right in his tracks. He turns to look at Armin while still holding his arms out to me, raised for a strike and panting with effort. The scrap between us had only lasted a few seconds, maybe less than a minute, but it was tiring all the same, so I’m just as breathless as he is. I keep my eyes on him though, not ready to trust him just yet, but the fight has left him, and he’s losing steam. 

 

“Mugged?” Eren asks, still breathless. “Just a… a mugger?” 

 

“No, Eren.” I step back and cross my arms. “I got abducted by aliens and had to fight them off with a spoon. Dumb fuckers got the drop on me with a hangnail but I was able to scare them off with your Single-Mingle profile.”

 

“I don’t even have that app,” he sneers at me, and there’s that scowl I know and hate. “You don’t have to be such an ass.”

 

“I wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t flip the fuck out! What the Hell is wrong with you anyways? You look like shit! Don’t you know how to bathe?” My gaze travels up and down just to see how worn out he is and I scoff at a thought. “You got wasted last night, didn’t you?”

 

Eren looks away, scowling to the wall and clamping his mouth shut tight.

 

“Oh my God, you did! Are you still drunk?” My accusations seem to rile him up further, and I know he wants to bite something back at me but Armin intervenes again.

 

“Jean, shouldn’t you be going back home?” he asks, tucking some hair behind his ear. “You look just as tired as Eren does; which means you’re both intolerable! I’ll deal with him. You go to bed.”

 

The power from the roll of my eyes could rotate the earth, I swear. “Yes,  _ mom _ .”

 

A finger is pointed in my face paired with a death glare that could rival my own. “Don’t you sass me, Kirstein. I can either make your life easier or a living Hell; you choose.”

 

My hands go up in surrender and I back away slowly so as not to pester him further. From the look of things, Armin had to deal with Eren all night long. Adding me into the mix might just have pushed him a little too far over the edge. An angry Armin is not something I wish to see in this lifetime.

 

Quietly, Armin hooks his hand around his strap and hefts it over his shoulder. “Class is over, we can go home now.” He doesn’t even look at Eren as he starts walking out the door, but Eren nods all the same and follows after like a kicked puppy.

 

All I can do is shake my head. Those two are so weird.

.

.

.

 

As quiet as I can, I open up my door and peek my head inside. The sight of Bob on the couch is one that I had expected, but seeing him lazily petting Sina was not. So, because I’m a genius, I decide to sneak in and surprise him. His face is going to be priceless. The rustling of my grocery bags force me to leave them in the hall while I creep up behind the arm of the couch.

 

Sina flicks her ear to me and squints in my direction, but doesn’t seem to be bothered by my presence and nods off again. One step. Two steps. Three and… POUNCE.

 

“HIYA, BOB!” Sina goes flying into orbit when my hands slam down on the arm of the couch above Bob’s head. Bob, in turn, flashes his eyes wide in panic and does what any sensible person would do in his position: he punched me in the face.

 

Okay, so maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

 

My hands clamp down over my nose and I back away groaning over my knees. Because of his startled gasp when he hit me, Bob coughs miserably into his arm while he sits up and looks about to beg mercy from God himself, like he slapped a baby instead of punched an asshole. Sina spits and hisses at me for ruining her nap and if she could talk, I’d bet she’d be saying that I deserved it. Which, I probably do. Okay, yeah, I definitely do.

 

“Sit!”  The word snaps out of my mouth when Bob struggles to his feet and tries to hobble over to the fridge. “I break, I fix. Not you. You sit. Relax. I go bury my nose in ice.” 

 

I’m finally able to stand up and blink back the moisture from my eyes as I stare into the light. Man, he’s got a mean right hook. When I look over to him, there’s an actual pout on his lips; and his eyes are still wide and fearful. I think my own face must be scaring him off because I can’t really stop squinting.

 

“I’m serious; don’t rip any of those stitches.” I completely ignore him as I walk over to the fridge but change my mind halfway there. The groceries are still out in the hallway and I need to thaw some meat anyway, but Bob’s eyes don’t stop weighing down my shoulders. “Sit down, already- fuck!” 

 

A sudden throbbing in my nose has me hissing out the curse. I’m an absolute, fucking genius.

 

Still holding my nose with one hand, my other wraps around the handle to my front door, but a series of quick slaps against the couch stops me.  I turn back around with a frown but drop it when I see it. Wide, panicky eyes, quiet, panting lips and hunched shoulders trying to make himself look smaller looks back at me while Bob clings to the couch with claw-like hands. 

 

I’m stunned. Here stands a monster killing bad-ass with the biggest, most frightened look in his eyes and for what? Because he hit me? For something  _ I _ did, no less? My hand let’s go of the handle to turn more towards him and a heavy breath makes his shoulders lower in relief. Now hold on a minute; is he upset because I’m leaving? It takes me a minute to blink away my confusion but Bob looks legitimately scared here.

 

“Bob, I’m not leaving,” I tell him quietly, and throw a thumb over my shoulders. “I left the groceries because I’m an idiot.”

 

A coughing fit hides him away into his elbow but it’s not quick enough to cover the dejected look on his face. I take this time to open the front door and stoop down to grab all the bags of food while he’s preoccupied. By the time I have all the bags set on the counter, Bob is done with his hacking, but still standing at the end of the couch and holding on for dear life. 

 

“Will these fit?” After digging around in the bags I find and toss the pair of pants I bought Bob in order to replace the ones I ruined. They land over the back of the couch in front of him, and he startles a bit because he was still looking down to the cushions. I can see his expression grow tighter from here as he slowly grabs the jeans but I speak up before he can protest. “They’re for the ones I shredded last night.”

 

Bob’s frown deepens but he nods all the same. I’ve gotten used to that look. He’s stuck in the middle again. He’s not used to being taken care of after however long it was that he’s had to take care of himself. Aside from that, he’s too used to taking care of others. It must be driving him crazy not being able to help me after knocking some sense into my thick skull. Seriously though, that was my fault, and he should feel no remorse over my stupidity. Then again, this is Bob. If he wants to pay me back for a sign language book, who knows how he feels about a replacement pair of pants.

 

There’s also the fact that he’s bedridden at the moment. I can tell that he’s not used to sitting still. Just the thought alone puts me on edge but for Bob, someone who protects and puts others first, I bet it must be a lot worse. I can’t really blame him for wanting to be up, but at the same time, he needs to rest. 

 

When I think about turning the tables, however, I could never sit still long enough to lick my own wounds. I always, always dared fate to stop me when I felt the urge to move. A heavy sigh slips past my lips as I paw at the grocery bags and finally give in. “Help me put the groceries away, will ya?”

 

Bob’s demeanor shifts drastically at my words as his head snaps to me with wide eyes. Got my answer. I nod my head to the bags and go to kneel before the fridge. “Just hand me the food.”

 

The grip on Bob’s jeans is gone in an instant when he tosses them back onto the couch and he quickly hobbles over to the kitchen. I have to yell at him again about his stitches but the pep in his step is still there. He must have been really bored.

 

Piece by piece, Bob hands me the fruits and the vegetables and the meat to put away, but every once in awhile, he would wince when he put too much weight on his leg. After throwing him a few dozen stink eyes, Bob learned to go ahead and just lean most of his weight against the counter while we worked in silence. Eventually, he ended up sitting on the counter itself when we switched to the pantry. By then, he was struggling to stay upright, but he was still too stubborn to go back to bed.

 

We finished relatively quickly, and I rounded up the plastic bags to bundle up and save beneath the sink. One of the bags still had some frozen vegetables in them when I tried to scrunch it up. I looked to Bob, who merely pulled them out, wrapped them in a hand towel and handed them over to me with a strange smile.

 

“Alright, alright,” I huff, and dutifully plant the makeshift ice pack to my face. “Guess we’re having stir fry tonight.”

 

The weird smile on his face lightened to a pleased, agreeing sort of look with a small nod as Bob looked away in thought. His legs swung slightly until the wrapped one tapped against the counters and made him wince, but the uninjured leg continued on as though nothing had happened.

 

“Need more painkillers?” I ask, pulling out a pan and some meat for dinner. “Hanji left enough for a couple weeks.”

 

Bob shook his head, tilting it down to the floor. He looked around for a bit until he found the receipt and didn’t even finish turning around before I was holding out a marker to him.

 

‘Too wound up, and it’ll just put me to sleep. Not used to this.’

 

Called it. I nod agreement with him and dig out a notepad from the junk drawer that I nabbed the marker from. “You’re going to need some soon,” I tell him, handing over the pad as well. “I’ll also need to take a look at them later. Wanna take them then?” He nods. “Alright. Dinner. But if it starts to hurt too much you need to take them sooner, deal?” He nods again. “Deal.”

 

Cooking with one hand is a little difficult but taking out the fresh meat I bought only requires one anyway. My nose has stopped throbbing by now so there’s really no point in keeping the ice pack but it feels good to have pressure on it so, bite me. Still though, I’m going to need both of my hands when I really start cooking and wash my hands. Until then: prep work.

 

After digging out the marinade from the fridge, I stepped back over to the counter to set it down. Bob tapped my shoulder and squinted at me while I tried to open the damn thing one-handed. He tentatively raised his hand to tap the veggies away and took a closer look at my face. Being the grown adult that I am; I cross my eyes and stick my tongue out at him. “Looking good?”

 

That gets a snort out of him. I take this chance to toss the frozen bag into his hands so I can wash my hands. “Hang onto these for me. Hope you like teriyaki.” After snatching the towel back from Bob, I’m finally able to twist off the cap now that I have both hands and turn around to pour it into the pan with the meat. With my back facing Bob while I cook, the awkward tension between us lessons, and I think it makes the both of us more comfortable if I keep it that way. Especially when I start talking again. “How are you feeling by the way?”

 

The click and squeak of the marker tells me he’s writing, and when the notepad taps my shoulder, I’m not surprised.

 

‘I’m fine. Woke up about an hour ago. Sina kept me company.’

 

I nod and hand the pad back over my shoulder. “You two talk some more?” 

 

He tapped my shoulder again, but instead of a notepad I found his fingers asking for my attention. When I turned enough to see him, Bob bit his lip and held his fingers up in a pinch with some space between his finger and thumb. 

 

“A little?” He nodded, and I smirked. My hand reached up to slightly adjust his fingers. “That means tiny. This means a little bit. Not bad for a first try, though.”

 

An annoyed puff dropped Bob’s shoulders for him as he glared at his fingers. After a moment, they curled into a fist to rub over his heart again.

 

“Don’t be sorry; you’re doing fine,” I tell him. “Sign is just as difficult as any other language; that’s why it’s called a  _ language _ . It takes time to learn.”

 

He’s holding back a cough when he pinched his fingers together then pointed at me. ‘No you,’ but I get the gist.

 

“I’m an exception because I am an exceptional person. Technically I’m extraordinarily fabulous beyond comprehension, really, but, that wouldn’t fit on the business card so, you’ll have to deal with the humble version of me.” That earned me a roll of the eyes. “Seriously though. The fact that you’re even trying is a miracle in itself. Half of my classes are only there for the credits, not because they’re trying to learn.”

 

I actually annoy my classes sometimes because I make it look so easy. In reality, I get annoyed with them because they either don’t want to learn or don’t learn as fast as I want them to. It’s a constant battle, really. One that I’m not too proud to say that I mainly cause through my tactics but, in the end, my students learn enough to pass the semester and sign my checks so… I guess it works out.

 

I wet my lips and look to the ground in thought. “How do you talk to her, anyway?” Sina knows we’re talking about her because I’m watching her watching me as she wraps around my legs. Guess she’s forgiven me. “Is it complicated? Is it a spell? Can… can only… ” Sina sits on my foot right as Bob lays a hand on my shoulder. He’s got this soft look in his eye that I don’t like and a smile to match. “You know what, nevermind.”

 

The meat spits at me when I turn back to the stove and stir it around. Sina purrs sweetly at me and sits herself on my feet again to stare up at me, but my focus is on dinner. So what if I can’t talk to my cat? Nobody else can either. Except for Bob. The guy who she fell head over heals for the minute she saw him. The guy who she has conversations about me behind my back with. The witch who can actually use powers that he apparently got to learn from day one. It’s just a stupid parlor trick, nothing more. No I’m not bitter, shut up.

 

We stay quiet while I cook, with the only sounds still being the hissing of the meat and occasional cough until I break away to stick some minute rice in the microwave. Once that’s done, the meat is almost finished, and it’s time for the vegetables. My arm stretches back behind me while I focus on the stove in front of me. “Open the veggies for me?”

 

The crinkle of the bag interrupts the hiss of the meat and I can feel the chill dig into my fingers when Bob gently places the food in my outstretched hand. When I pull it back to dump the vegetables, more hissing ensues with a cloud of steam from the pan. There’s another feeling on my fingers, though. One I hadn’t noticed before due to the cold, but now that I can see it in front of me, I saw the paper folded around the bottom of the bag. I cock a brow to it and peer over my shoulder to see a nonchalant Bob swinging his uninjured foot along my kitchen counter. With a sniff, I pull the paper away from the bag and unfold it.

 

‘It’s kind of like sharing memories. Visions, if you will. If you’ve got a strong enough connection or are skilled enough to know how to do it with a companion, any witch can do it. Even some of the benign ones.’

 

There’s a pucker to my lips as I contemplate Bob’s words. My expression is bored as I turn back to him, and I keep my eyes to the paper until I start speaking.“So you’re saying there’s a shot I could do it too?” It’s more of a statement than a question, which Bob copies with a noncommittal shrug, the little shit. “What if I don’t wanna know what rolls around in my cat’s head? Ow!”

 

Sina’s claws were still unsheathed when she hissed at me, apparently not liking what I had said. “Bitch.” She hissed again. Bob could only chuckle. I could smell dinner a little too sharply by that point and turned back to the stove to turn down the heat. “So how would this work?” I ask, setting the pan to the side to prep the rice. “Is it like a stare off? First to blink loses? Or do I have to meditate under waterfalls first?”

 

Another snort explodes out of Bob, which eventually turns into what sounds like seriously painful coughs. I snatch another water bottle from the fridge and hand it to him when it starts to sound like it’s slowing down some, but still, Bob was hunched over to the sink. 

 

“Please don’t hurl.” His hand raised to placate me, but he remained hunkered over the sink. After a few minutes, he finally straightened up again with a few grunts and sniffles, his eyes watery from the effort of his lungs. “You good?” I asked, and he nodded. “Alright. No dying. It’s not allowed.”

 

Another raspy chuckle puffed out of Bob, but he managed to keep his breaths at bay this time. After a few sips from the water bottle and some deep, even breathing, Bob picked up the notepad again and began writing while I plated our dinner. Sina meowed at me for her portion but after the layer of skin she took from my shins, I don’t know if she’s earned it tonight. 

 

I’m about to ask him if he wants to eat at the bar or the couch when he presents the paper to me, hops down from the counter with a wince, and gently hobbles over to the couch with his plate. Well. Guess that answers that. I pick my plate up as well and start to follow but do so slowly so I can read what was written.

 

‘Like I said; you need to bond with a companion. You and Sina obviously have that, but whether or not you’re able to do it is completely up to you two. I can teach you, but you’re going to have to have an open mind about all this. Can you do that?’

 

I’m nodding before I can even look up to see if he’s watching. “Yeah, I can do that.”

 

Bob smiles his pleased little smile again and nods once before handing me his plate and gingerly sits down on the couch. I’m close behind, balancing the plates in both hands. With the sweetest of mews, Sina hops up onto the couch before me to sit next to Bob and purrs politely to him while she stares at me with the biggest green eyes she can muster. 

 

“Yeah, no.” My foot shoves her off the couch with a disgruntled meow and I’m quick to sit down in her place. “Not until after you apologise to my shins, you little monster.”

 

Once again: Sina hisses at me. Bob clicks his tongue at me, but I don’t care. Little shit deserved it. Bob accepted the plate I gave him but also reached over for the notepad as well. He was busy writing down his response while I went over to grab the remote, but Bob stopped me with a quick grab to my shoulder. I look to him, still stretched over for the remote and particularly close to his wide eyes. They’ve gotten a little darker. Barely a pale yellow, but better than before. His eyes move away to his notepad to scribble out a quick question.

 

‘Cameras?’

 

“TV’s not that advanced,” I tell him. “I’ll keep my phone and laptop away, though.”

 

That seems to satisfy him, and he releases my shoulder. A few squiggles later to scratch out his question and the notepad is back in my hands while I fill his with the remote.

 

‘That’s not really helpful to the bond, you know. If you’re too irritated with each other it won’t work. You have to be willing to communicate and work together.’

 

“Sina and I bicker all the time,” I mutter, setting the pad down in Bob’s lap so I can dig into my dinner. Bob is busy flipping through channels but puts the remote down to reply.

 

‘Maybe that’s why you two have never talked.’

 

Okay, that hurt. The scowl I give the paper does nothing to it and Bob is purposefully oblivious to me as well while he scans my cable. Sight of breaking news pauses his fingers long enough to show us another explosion had occurred at a local mall a few towns over. Shots of the wreckage panned around from what was obviously a helicopter around a burnt and gutted out Macy’s, filming scenes of ambulances and medics rushing off with wounded. 

 

_ “-sparked the gas and caused the explosion, killing twenty-four people instantly from the blast. At least a dozen people are still missing in the wreckage and the search is still going on. The radical group calling themselves Titans targeted the mall with the gas bomb that has poisoned at least thirty people and killed fourteen. Of those thirty, eight have either gone into critical condition, or have become comatose. There is no word on an antidote as of yet, but doctors are-” _

 

“They’re getting ballsy,” I mutter, now scowling at the carnage along with him. “You’d think after all these months they'd have figured out that gas is flammable, but nope. An explosion was bound to happen.”

 

There’s a dark expression over Bob’s face, scowling at the news with something sparking his eyes that I could not name. The look doesn’t fade away even after he starts changing the channel again, but I don’t question it. He finally lands on some cooking channel and sits back to enjoy his food, but I’ve lost my appetite. Bob’s words do not sit well with me.

 

Sina glowers at me from behind the ottoman, and I can see her tail swishing back and forth irritably. Stupid cat. I heave out another irritated sigh and pat the couch cushion beside me. She takes the initiative to trot up and plop down delicately beside me, still looking irritated with her ears turned back. My peace offering of a teriyaki chicken strip seemed to be enough for her to finally relax and lie down beside me.

 

“Brat.”

 

The three of us sit in silence while we eat and enjoy the flavor of it together. Occasionally, I’d slip another chicken strip to Sina and Bob would be too slow to hide his smirk with a mouthful of rice. He did seem to have some trouble eating, though. It’s not surprising, if I’m entirely honest. For one thing, he’s not used to such huge portions after skipping out on dinner for so long. Shrinking stomachs are a thing. For another, he’s still sick. 

 

Every once in a while, Bob would have to turn away and curl into himself to hack out a lung. Like the dutiful friend I am, I’d snatch his plate away before it could spill everywhere, but it would take a few minutes for him to get back to normal. When he did, he’d sit up, take the plate back and continue eating. One small bite at a time. Soon enough though, he couldn’t even manage those anymore.

 

I didn’t make a big deal out of it. Honestly, I was just glad he was able to keep anything down. Cleaning up meant putting most of his food in tupperware but still, at least he tried. Once everything was put away and I dumped the dishes in the sink to be put off until later, I dug out the new med kit I bought earlier that afternoon.

 

The pills Hanji had left behind for Bob end up being tossed to him so he can swallow them while I wash my hands. All the extra bandages and gauze are tossed to him as well as I’m drying my hands, and Bob almost spits out his water when my aim is a little too close to his thigh.

 

“Sorry,” I snicker, and Bob gives me another half-hearted glare. “C’mon.” I pat my knee for his foot and begin rolling up his sweats after he’s firmly placed it in my lap. The medical scissors take a bit of wiggling to get under the old wrap, but once I get the tip in, cutting the rest of it off is easy. I’m careful, though, and cut slowly so as not to nick Bob or his stitches even with the dulled tip. When I snip through the last of the gauze, I make sure to put the scissors down first before gently tugging on the parts stuck with dried blood. 

 

Faces and winces tell me that Bob can feel the cloth pulling on him, and it let’s me know I’m going to need a bit more in order to get it off. Digging around in the bag again, I grab a special cleaner out and pop it open. Eight dozen soaked cotton balls and lots of careful dabbing later, and the wrap is completely gone with minimal wincing.

 

“So far so good,” I mutter. The stitches themselves look fine as I turn his leg carefully, and when I put more of that cleaner on over them, Bob barely makes a face at all. “Tell me something,” I say quietly, still tending to his wounds but I can feel Bob look at me. “What makes cameras so dangerous?”

 

I keep my eyes down on my work but pull away to let him move. He leans over slightly to grab his notepad and writes lightly before turning it to me.

 

‘Finding spell.’

 

I’m quiet for a minute, studying his handwriting and putting the pieces together. Finally, I look up to him and ask: “From the people trying to kill you?” He nods once. I lick my lips. “Can you stop it?” The flicker in his eyes tells me everything I need to know, but the deepening frown and lowered eyes happen anyways. “Alright then.” 

 

Silently, I go back to work cleaning Bob’s wounds. A whole lot of things make sense now. Cameras are everywhere; it wouldn’t be all that difficult to find someone through one, but hiding from them would. Cell phones. Security cameras. Tablets. Even ipods, for God’s sake. 

 

Now I can understand why Bob never went anywhere, and it makes me angry just thinking about it. The man probably has a home somewhere but he can’t get back to it because of some dumb kid randomly passing him by trying to be a youtube star. The park was the only safe place for him to go. What utter  _ bullshit _ .

 

A tap to my shoulder makes me look up sharply, and Bob flinches back from my glare. He’s quick to settle back to normal and hold up his notepad though, but once again, I realize too late that my temper has hurt him. “Sorry,” I mutter, not looking to his notepad just yet and focusing more on cleaning the last of his stitches. “I’m not mad at you.”

 

My movements are quick and jerky, snatching up the fresh, clean gauze and tearing at it’s packaging, but Bob lays his hand on my shoulder, and I look up to his small, almost paternal smile. He looks at me for a moment, then takes his fingers and presses them to the crease in my brow. I pull away and deepen my unintentioned frown, but a slight chuckle from Bob makes it go away.

 

‘You worry too much.’

 

“I’m not worried,” I grumble, but Bob continues to snicker at me, clearly not convinced. “I’m not, now let me wrap up your leg before it falls off.” 

 

He snorts, and quickly scribbles down: ‘Worrywart.’

 

“I can and will make you wrap this on your own,” I threaten.

 

‘And then you’d come back later to fix it or give up halfway because I ruined it too much.’

 

“Bit me, butt-munch.”

 

A great, big bellow of a laugh roars out soundlessly from his gut as Bob shudders with laughter. It lasts all of a second before he’s coughing again, but his smile is still there through the pain of hacking out his lungs. The same, resilient smile I almost always see even after those assholes ran him out of his home. How could anyone want this guy dead?

 

I finish wrapping up his leg as the last of the chuckles leave Bob’s shaking shoulders. A calming silence falls over us again, and all we can hear are my movements with the gauze and Sina’s ferocious purrs. As I’m latching the end of the wrap below Bob’s knee, I heave out a sigh and gently pat it.

 

“That oughta do it,” I mumble. I slowly roll the pant leg back down over Bob’s shin and he watches, pondering something. I catch his eye and he looks at me with that simple smile again- not really joy but, quiet content- and he raises his hand to his chin and back down again, making me grin. “You’re welcome, Bob.”

 

Neither of us move, just enjoying the silence and the calmness it brings us. Still. Images of people chasing down Bob scamper through my head and it bothers me. Memories of goosebumps from the cold, of scruffy beards without a razor, of ribs poking out because of hunger… I can’t stand it. Bob should never have had to go through any of that because of someone else. I know I haven’t known him long, and I know we don’t really know each other that well, but my gut tells me I’m right. Whatever he did, Bob didn’t deserve to be put in this situation. My thoughts get the better of me the longer I sit here, and my words are itching to come out. I can’t stop myself when they do.

 

“There’s not much I can do for you witch-wise,” I mutter. “But I can help you other ways…” I scratch my fingers through the darker part of my undercut, not really looking at him. “I don’t know what, I don’t know how, but I know I can. Just don’t be afraid to ask.” 

 

The once comfortable silence makes my skin crawl now as Bob looks at me, and for a few moments, I wish I hadn’t said anything. Soon enough though, that same, content smile comes back, and Bob nods agreement. The click of his marker sounds sharply in my ear before Bob turns his notepad to me.

 

‘Same goes for me.’   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta-daa~
> 
> Hope you liked it :]   
> Also, that IV thing is true. No rip your veins please.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's hoping there's still a chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so my work technically isn't allowed to have internet but someone hacked the system to get it in *cough cough should have expected this from a building full of tech support geeks cough* work didn't like that, and now they've taken away all of our tools to do anything in order to get it back: so all I've got until everything is unpacked is my phone... Here's hoping it posts ok. Sorry for the wait, guys.

\---

**Chapter 12**

\---

 

Bright, green eyes stare back at me dully, and it’s all I can do not to roll mine. We’d been sitting like this for almost half an hour just staring at one another. Finally getting bored of me, Sina closes her eyes in an attempt to doze off and turns her head away. I sigh and sit back, closing my eyes as well and running both my hands over my face. When my hands fall away, I turn my head to look at Bob hanging out at the bar.

 

Time had passed easily with Bob here. Exams had ended and break had begun, and in that time, Bob and I grew more comfortable with each other. We ate and laughed and talked the only way we could, and everything was easy. Without even thinking about it, we had managed to become each other’s teachers. He currently was sitting on a barstool searching for something to help him  on my laptop, while I practiced speaking with Sina. He made it look so easy. I hate him.

 

Bob had told me that talking with Sina was like talking to anyone else. Only, instead of words, you used pictures. In your head. He had told me to clear my mind to receive Sina’s images and in turn, do the same for her but so far: I got nothing.

 

How the Hell do you clear your mind? There’s something going on up there 24/7 with no breaks. Even sleep isn’t an escape because it takes me forever to shut my brain up and then it’ll still scream at me with dreams. This is impossible. This is stupid. This is not okay. Stupid Bob.

 

Still though, he wasn’t fairing sign language any better. When I’m there to help him, it’s no problem, but on his own… that’s a whole other story. At the moment, he’s surfing the internet with the camera covered up  but every now and then, I can see him struggling with the signs in the book that I know for a fact he can make. 

 

When I was finishing the exams for my classes, Bob would spend the whole day on one page. As soon as I had gotten home and we had some food in our bellies, Bob and I could cover entire chapters. Whatever he learned, he held onto, and whatever he didn’t, he tried harder on. If he didn’t know a word, he would spell it out and then copy me when I showed him how to sign it.  He’s moved through several books so far, and can be considered an intermediate signer, which, as a teacher, I couldn’t be more proud of. Especially considering how much he’s learned in such a short time. As a competitive asshole, however, it only pisses me off.

 

I glare back at Sina, who’s given up on me completely and has dozed off like a champ on the ottoman. Why is this so hard? She must be ignoring me on purpose. Whatever, I’m bored and tired so, I’m done here. With a sigh, I get up from the couch and walk over to the fridge. There must be something to nibble on. If the time on the microwave clock is any indication of reality, we’ve been sitting here a while. It’s close to dinner time.

 

“Hungry?” I ask, but Bob doesn’t answer. He’s too busy frowning at the screen. “Yo, Freckles?” That get’s his attention, and he jumps a little from the sudden volume of my voice. He offers me a smile, but I don’t buy it, and throw him a look of my own. “You alright?” He nods. “You sure?” He nods again. “Alright.”

 

I got back to browsing through the fridge and ponder the possibilities. “What are you hungry for?”

 

‘Anything,’ he signs with a shrug. ‘I’m not really p-i-c-k-y right now.’

 

I took a moment to sign out the word ‘picky’ and watched as he copied before speaking again. “Good; because I've got a killer Sardine casserole recipe I've been wanting to try.” The look of absolute horror on Bob’s face is so worth it. “Since we don’t have any though, we’ll have to settle for anchovies instead.” The color drains right from his face, but when he realizes that I’m smirking, Bob glares at me with the biggest pout to his lip and I just cannot hold in my laughter anymore. He crumples up an old receipt and throws it at me while I put myself back together again and wipe away some sniffles. “How about calzones instead?”

 

‘Sounds like a better option,’ Bob signs, still frowning. That pout never went away. ‘Do you need help?’

 

“Nah,” I say, pulling out some flour from the pantry. “But I’ll need you to pick your fillings in a sec.” He nods, only half listening as he turns back to the laptop, frowning deeper. Bob had been frowning at that thing for the better part of an hour so far, and he keeps huffing and sighing at it. Above that, though, I’m more drawn to the way his eyes scan over whatever it is he’s been reading, and the way they crease with worry. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

 

That earned me a cocked eyebrow as he stared at me over the laptop, only his milky brown eyes peeking above it, but nothing more than that before he gazed back down to the screen.

 

“No, I’m serious,” I tell him, filtering flour over my counter. “You’re looking at that thing like it ate your last cookie. What did my computer ever do to you?” More worry fills his eyes, but this time it’s more concern over my words. He bit his lip, eyes shifting over the counter as he thought, but ultimately shook his head. I tick my head in return and shrug it off. “Alright.”

 

We stay like this for a while, me quietly cooking dinner while he frets over the computer. Eventually, Bob makes himself close the laptop and watch me work. My fingers mold the dough as I please and the flour dusts over my arms when I plop it back down on the counter. I don’t mind it, though. Cooking is relaxing. Watching seems to be relaxing as well because the tension leaves Bob’s shoulders as he watches me. The furrow in his brow is still there, but it lessened over his eyes the longer he sat there.

 

Finally, I have it set up to fill the calzones, and Bob points to whatever he wants in his, not really able to sign everything that he wants just yet. I show him how as he points, and he copies to figure it out while I fold his calzone. I sign my ingredients as well, and watch as he repeats the motion while I fill it up. Once his is done, I set to work making my own calzone. I even made a mini one for Sina.

 

They end up in the oven long enough to crisp up and turn into this delicious, golden brown and my apartment smells fantastic. It gives me just enough time to crush some tomatoes into a nicely seasoned sauce which only makes the smell even better. Both Bob and Sina are practically drooling after me by the time I pull our dinner out of the oven with a satisfied smile. 

 

“Voilà,” I say, showing the pan. “Bon appétit.”

 

Dinner is quiet as well, but much more lively. Bob seems to have relaxed some, but he still frowns to himself every once in awhile. Now, for example; I had gotten him to laugh great, big, hold-your-gut laughter and he was fine. As he was calming down, however, he looked to the floor with a sad smile, and quietly went back to his dinner.

 

“Alright, look,” I tell him, making Bob look up at me. “Something's obviously bothering you, so why not tell me what it is so we can get on with it?” He blinks at me as if to say ‘what do you mean’ but I see right through him. “I said I don’t mind helping you. If something is bothering you, then you have me and Sina to help send it off.” His features became more genuine now, and his shoulders dropped a little as he looked to the ground. “I mean, we’ve done it before; why not now?”

 

Bob’s eyes tightened, and he still looked to the floor when he finally signed out: ‘Because it’s dangerous.’

 

“The fuck do I care about danger?” I mutter, cutting into the last bite of my meal to fight off quoting The Lion King. “I’m just rusty since my soccer days in high school; I bet I can kick the next demon-fucker even farther if I warm up a little.” Bob shook his head, a little more upset now. I put down my silverware and pushed my plate away, scooting a little closer to the edge of my chair to give all of my attention to him. “Bob, whatever it is, you know I’ll do it.”

 

‘I know,’ he nodded. ‘That’s the problem.’

 

“Why is that a bad thing?”

 

‘Because I never wanted to get you i-n-v-o-l-v-e-d in this.’

 

“I’m already involved.” I made sure to sign it, but Bob didn’t copy this time.

 

‘I know.’ Bob closed his eyes, hiding behind his hand. People only do that when they cry. Oh, shit, oh shit, oh shit-

 

“Hey-” I put my hand over his shoulder, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. “It’s alright, calm down.” He shook his head, turning away from me and staring to the ceiling, but his eyes are dry. Thank fuck I was wrong. “Bob,” I try carefully. “What’s got you so worked up?”

 

Bob’s gaze stayed on the ceiling as he licked his lips. He took a moment, and managed to answer me.

 

‘I think I know how to break my c-u-r-s-e.’

 

I frown at him. That’s what this is about? That’s what’s so hard to say? “I thought that was a good thing,” I grumble. “You really think-” He waves me off before I can finish.

 

‘It’s not that simple,’ he signs. The emotion on his face is unreadable, but his eyes… His soft, brown eyes can’t seem to hold in all of his frustration and fear and turmoil. He finally closes them with a sigh before looking back to me. ‘You are a good person. One of the kindest I have ever met. I would never be able to live with myself if something were to happen to you.’

 

“Bullshit.” Why the fuck do people keep telling me I’m nice if only to make me feel better about being a major dick? “There’s something I can do to help you, but you don’t think I can.” He shakes his head, a little frantic. “Then man up and tell me.”

 

Bob stares at me for a long time. Neither of us are willing to back down so it turns into a sort of stare-off until someone decides to break. Sina watches from a distance, quiet as we silently fight each other, and not even purring anymore. It stays like this for so long, I don’t even know how many minutes have passed. We’re just not willing to budge on this.

 

Finally, I lean back into my chair with a sigh, crossing my arms as I do. “Fine,” I mutter. “Then answer me this: is it your best option?” His eyes harden. “Is it your only option.” They darken even further. “And I’m the only person who can help you in your best, only option. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

Now he’s downright fuming.

 

“Look,” I grumble, keeping eyes with him. “The way I see it, you have a chance to get your life back. Your voice, your home, your family; why turn that down? You wouldn’t tell a cripple to stay in a wheelchair if they had the chance to walk again, would you?”

 

Bob looked away with a huff. After a moment, he turned his eyes to me, still upset but cracking. For a grown man he really has his kicked puppy dog eyes on point. Time to bring in the big guns. I lowered my voice to a softer tone so that he’s forced to listen to me, and leaned forward to catch his downward gaze. 

 

“I don’t care if it’s dangerous. If I can do it and it will help you, then it needs to be done. No ‘if’s’ ‘and’s’ or ‘but’s’.” I leaned back into my chair to cross my arms. “ Now. Tell me what I need to do.” 

 

It takes a full minute, but then I see it. The look, the huff, and the dropped shoulders, all in that order. I know I’ve won. It’s really difficult to drop the smirk off my lips but at the same time, I don’t really want to. I earned this win.

 

Bob leans back in his own chair to stare at me, chewing his cheek in thought before answering me. ‘Basically, you say a spell.’

 

“That’s it?” Then I stop to think about it. “But I don’t have magic. Do benign witches have magic?”

 

‘If you have the right ingredients.’ Bob signs. ‘Witches normally use the magic within themselves but some weaker ones still have to use the magic from books or p-o-t-i-o-n-s. I can mix it for you but you will still need to read a specific spell.’

 

I shrug. “Alright, lay it on me. What’s the plan?”

 

Bob shook his head. ‘It’s-’

 

“Safer if I don’t know,” I finish for him with a sigh. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next chapter coming up has been stuck in my head for MONTHS. I can't wait for you to read. 
> 
> Lemme know why you think! ♡


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so begins the journey, of which there's no turning back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there is intense violence and fighting in this chapter and lots of magic. Please take care of yourself. 
> 
> Still only have my mobile (my KINGDOM for a laptop) and this is still unbetad same as ever so, if you see anything off, I'm blaming Murphy's law. 
> 
> This chapter has been in my head for months and it's one of the scenes that got me to start writing this story. I can't wait to show you the others but, a working laptop is what I'm aiming for for the next update so, we'll see.

\---

**Chapter 13**

\---

 

If looks could kill, my laptop would be smashed to pieces by now. For the last two hours, Bob had been sitting on the couch glaring down my computer and practically biting his knuckles into the war-hardened chew toys of a beast. If I could hazard a guess, he was replaying the plan in his head over and over again to try and convince himself that it was a good idea. We had decided to wait until his leg had fully healed and the last of his coughs had died away. He also wanted to make me a protection charm that needed to stew for a few days in order to have full potency. The stern look on his face when he strung it up and placed it over my neck a couple hours ago could have scared off a nun because he was realizing how close we were to what I like to call ‘Dooms Day.’ Now, Bob was trying to psych himself up to set the plan into motion.

 

Honestly, his jitters were contagious. I was nervous just watching him, but if he were to see me getting even the slightest bit antsy, he’d call the whole thing off, no doubt about it. Bob had painstakingly put together a brew of herbs and spices that- quite honestly, kind of scared me at how easy it was to get- and triple checked to make sure it was made with the right ingredients in the right doses at the right time. He even printed out the spell that I would have to read and tucked it away into a folder to keep me from reading it prematurely. That, itself, was read by him about five times every hour on the hour. 

 

All he had told me so far was that I would be hiding with the brew and the folder in the park, and Sina would come along as well in order to amplify my ‘magic witch powers’ to add to the whole image. Nothing else. I wasn’t allowed to do or know anything other than that. Which, okay, I could totally do, but why the secrecy? What’s going to happen to him? What’s going to happen to me? Will anything happen at all? I’m about to break down and ask him when Bob finally moves.

 

Slowly, carefully, Bob reaches a hand out to my laptop and opens it without a sound. Then, without warning, he pulled the tape off of the camera built into my laptop and glared at it. He squared his shoulders, sat a little taller and didn’t bother taking his eyes off of it for a good thirty seconds before reaching to the keypad and typing something out. With a nod, Bob looks sternly to the camera one last time before closing the laptop and abruptly standing up.

 

‘Let’s go,’ he signed. 

 

I grabbed the bag with the spell and our supplies in it and quickly followed Bob out the front door with Sina at our heels. It doesn’t take us long to get to the park, but Bob insists that he watch out for any oncomers out in the middle of the night. That- actually- makes me feel a little better as I set up this ridiculous little spell in the bushes. 

 

Nothing happens for a long time. My back is sore from crouching in the bushes for so long and my ass is no better with the dirt and the twigs, and I’m almost to the point where I don’t give a shit if anyone sees me anymore because ‘fuck this shit, fight me face-to-face bitch.’ Bob is the only thing that keeps me grounded, though. The moon rises high in the sky while we wait, and Sina and I are getting restless but Bob stands tall the whole time. Watching. Waiting. The glare on his face hadn’t left him since before he apparently alerted himself to the spellcaster, and to be honest, I’d be surprised if it did. Who knows how long he’s been running. I’d be tense too.

 

Finally, a little after midnight, Bob shifts, and his glare hardens. I follow his gaze to a small woman walking towards him with an icy, cold stare of her own. She doesn’t look hateful, or even vindictive, but kind of bored. The ice in her eyes, however, matches that of Bob’s, and he’s not one for hateful glances. I unintentionally shrink back from him because I can feel his hatred for this woman.

 

The she-devil stops a few yards away from Bob and the two have a bit of a stare-down for a few minutes, sizing each other up. Neither make a move, and each of them watch the other like a hawk. A few seconds later, two ginormous guys follow up beside her and practically dwarf this tiny, blonde thing with glares of their own. The buff guy looks angry, but the other guy, tall and skinny, he just looks… kind of upset. The woman still looks to Bob like he’s not worth a moment of her time.

 

“It’s been awhile,” she finally speaks. Bob merely glowers at her harder, not bothering to sign anything to her even if she could read him, and squares his shoulders against the three opponents shadowing before him. Slowly, Bob lowered into a fighting stance, bringing his arms up for a fight he was surely going to lose. The woman blinked, still keeping an air of nonchalance but the ice in her eyes grew.

 

“Just remember,” she spoke again, dropping her voice. “It didn’t have to be this way.”

 

Before I can even register anything, Bob is gone, and so are the other goons the bitch had with her. I looked around blindly trying to find them and ended up seeing Bob fighting off the big, burly guy with some seriously powerful kicks. The tall one came up behind Bob and it takes everything in me not to scream out to him before Bob can be attacked, when an actual, mother fucking arrow blew straight through Tall-guy’s arm. He screamed in pain and fell away from Bob, turning to look to a brunet now, aiming her fucking, glowing bow at him and readying another shot after popping up from out of fucking nowhere. I shit you not.

 

The Brute pulled away from Bob to check on Tall-guy and his new girlfriend with the arrows, but Bob was too quick for him, and jumped up to wrap his legs around Brute’s neck. In not even seconds, Brute is down on the ground trapped between Bob’s thighs and fighting for air. Before Brute can counter or get free, Bob’s hand glows that familiar, eerie blue, and he slaps it down over Brute’s chest, who freezes on the spot. It’s both cool and creepy because I can still hear the guy choking from here.

 

Meanwhile, Little miss Merida over there was having trouble keeping up with Tall-guy and Blonde-Bitch at the same time, even with the help of a new bald-monkey guy with a gigantic sledge hammer who, again, popped up out of fucking nowhere. Bob was on his way to help the two who magically appeared, when I felt something tickle my hand. I almost jumped out of the bushes until I realized it was Sina who had touched me, and meowed quietly to remind me of where I was. And what I was supposed to be doing. Whoops.

 

Quickly, I lit a match and dropped it into the pot full of ingredients. Once I got the sizzle I was told I needed, I opened up the folder with the spell in it and started reading under my breath. No way I was gonna let Blonde-Bitch find me.

 

_ ‘Lunae et stellarum viribus, ut et ego invocabo te.’ _

 

Blonde-Bitch drew back her arms with a shouted out spell to pull out enormous roots from the ground and began attacking the three against her with them, not even needing to touch them in order to control them.

 

_ ‘Da ueniam ira.’ _

 

Brute gasped out loudly and clawed at his throat, seemingly having broken Bob’s spell and scrambled to join the fight with his comrades by growing about six times larger than what he already was and barrelling towards Monkey-boy with speed that shouldn’t be possible.

 

_ ‘Dormies super simul officium est, nihil amplius a te peto.’ _

 

Tall-guy grew too, but melted into the ground with the shadows and stretched as far as the eye could see to wrap around Merida-chick’s leg. 

 

_ ‘Auxilium tuum a me, ad iniuriam fur, qui de profectu in semita.’ _

 

Blonde-Bitch stopped suddenly, her eyes growing wide as a yellow glow formed in her chest and suddenly, every negative emotion known to man was crossing her features, and it was terrifying. She pulled away to search the area, and I lowered my voice because fuck that, I’m not dealing with her shit if she finds me, but Bob is quick to bring her back to the fight with a blue explosion thrown to her gut.

 

_ ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est.’ _

 

She’s becoming more and more anxious the more the glow rises up her chest and over her throat, practically radiating anger and hatred, but still, I push on.

 

_ ‘Hoc est a me.’ _

 

Bob keeps Blonde-Bitch busy as the light escapes from her screaming mouth and begins to float, shining brightly in the dark. They struggle and fight and claw, but Bob refuses to let her follow the light as it moves towards me.

 

_ ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est.’ _

 

Tall-guy and Brute join in to the mix to try and return the glowing light to Blonde-Bitch, but Merida-chick and Monkey-guy hold them off just as diligently as Bob.

 

_ ‘Hoc est a me.’ _

 

Blonde-Bitch lets out a scream that will haunt me for years and fights even harder to get away from Bob and after that light, but Bob refuses, and restrains her to keep her away from the light and me. It’s getting too close for comfort.

 

_ ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est.’ _

 

The light floats up to me, and Bob finally has a chance to throw Blonde-Bitch away to chase after it.

 

_ ‘Hoc est a me!’ _

 

It doesn’t even process that the light is slipping down my throat until I see Bob running after me. I’m stuck, frozen on the spot. I couldn’t even breathe if I wanted to because that fucking light has me pinned as it enters my body. I’m freaking out as best a frozen person can but what gets me out of all of this is that Bob launches himself over the bushes to tackle me and starts shoving his tongue down my throat right alongside it. Again. I shit you  _ not _ .

 

My eyes can’t get any wider and I’m still frozen even underneath the massive muscle that is Bob. I can feel the light burning in my chest while Bob has me pinned to the ground, but the longer he kisses me, the higher the warmth goes. That’s when it hits me: he’s actually sucking that thing out of me. Holy shit.

 

By the time I understand what he’s doing, he’s pulled away and is still sucking the last remnants of that light out of my mouth, and in any other situation, watching it stream between me and Bob would look cool but fuck this shit I’m out. Bob heaves a huge breath to get rid of the excess air and widens his eyes to look at me, just as panicked and freaked out as I am, but much,  _ much  _ darker than before.

 

“Say something!”

 

“Tree!”

 

Bob grabbed onto my shoulders and rolled us away just as the rising root from over his shoulder  slammed down onto the ground where we were. As soon as we stop, Bob rights himself on a knee, putting himself between me and the writhing root not ten feet away from us. “Take furball and find some place to hide; do NOT join the fight!”

 

He doesn’t wait for me to answer, and quite frankly, I’m still in too much shock to register everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds. Killer Bitch with tree hugging hippie powers over there just hacked up some lightbulb that floated over to me and tried to live in my esophagus but was stopped by Bob sucking face with me and now, apparently, he can talk. I must have blinked because I missed something here. 

 

Reality is brought back to me when some dirt falls over my cheek and I realize another root has lifted into the air to slam down over me. Oh, joy. Somehow I scrambled out of the way just before it could hit me and I am  _ off _ . Sina is snatched up into my arms with a cut-off meow from the force that I had picked her up with, watching the battle play out over my shoulder while I get us to safety.

 

Dirt puffs up into the air as I skid to safety under a tree a few hundred yards away, but I’m not prepared for the sight I turn back to. Roots snap in the air like whips, knocking back Merida-chick right into Tall-guy’s shadow and trapping her as it stretches and winds up their legs. Monkey-boy tries to go after her and get her out before she’s completely engulfed in the darkness, but Brute has him clutched in his hands, trying to squeeze the life out of him. This leaves Bob on his own to face down Blonde-Bitch, who holds nothing back as she pounds the roots down over him.

 

There’s a familiar blue glow coming off of Bob’s arms as he blocks each of Blonde-Bitch’s attacks, making sparks fly off the end of the roots each time she hits him with one. Bob fights her off like a champ, defending himself with the powerful, blue shield that he’s created for himself, but I can see him tiring out. Despite waiting an extra few days, the fact of the matter was that it had been a while since he had had a real, honest to God fight with his powers. He was out of practice, and still healing after the wild ride we had a couple weeks back. The thing that really sold me, however, was the fact that Bob’s eyes were not as dark a brown as I had liked when we left this evening.

 

Blonde-Bitch isn’t holding back, and it looks like she’s putting more effort into every hit as Bob is forced back. Her expression stays the same no matter what; and icy, cold glare fit for battle, but her eyes are wild and calculating. When Bob drops down to a knee still holding off her whips, she takes a moment to really pull in her efforts. Same expression, but her eyes tell me everything. This next hit will be the final blow.

 

It doesn’t register in my head that I’ve begun moving until I hear Sina yowling at me to come back. By then, it doesn’t really matter anyway because it’s too late to turn back. My arm has already hoisted a sizable rock over my shoulder and the momentum I’ve put into it has every intention of splitting that bitch’s head right in two. The rock makes contact and even from here, there’s an audible crack from her temple not even seconds before she starts screaming. The power she had built up for her next attack blew out through the roots and slammed down to the ground in various places, knocking Brute down before he could kill the alarmingly blue Monkey-boy. Lucky for him, he gets away, but Bob got nicked from one of the roots as well. Shit.

 

I can see him from here, curled up on the ground grabbing onto his shoulder in pain, but his eyes are wide with terror on me. “What are you doing?!”

 

That’s a very good question. Before I can answer it though, one of the roots has come up and is rushing towards me. Guess Blonde-Bitch has recovered. I tried to run away, but an inky blackness over the ground held me in place. That would be Tall-guy’s doing. The root comes racing towards me, much faster than I’d like because I’m not quick enough to raise my arms and protect myself from it’s blow. This is it. See you soon, Gramma. 

 

My impending impalement was cut short, however, when a sudden, severe pressure crushed my lungs and shoved me back to the ground to be wrapped up in more black stuff. Apparently, the root had hit me, but the pendant Bob had given me kept me from getting skewered. Bless that fucker. 

 

I’m heaving on the ground trying to catch my breath when another root comes crashing down over me and knocks the air out of me again. And again, and again, and again. Each time the root comes down, the charm keeps me from getting sliced in half, but the pressure from the hit to whatever force field is stopping it  leaves me wheezing. I can’t even get a good lungful before I’m hit again. I’m starting to see why Bob was so afraid of these people.

 

Sounds of screaming and fighting become a dull roar around me as my senses go into overdrive. Everything is in HD and smells too little or feels too numb and sounds so big, only to change a split second later where everything is too dark, sound is muffled cotton in my ears and every nerve in my body is electrified with sensation. I can’t even decide how to react because it’s changing so much so quickly. 

 

Suddenly, everything stops. No more darkness, no more pressure, and I’m surrounded by cold. Finally, the burning in my lungs stretches when I’m allowed to suck in more air than my body can handle, and I’m thrown into a coughing fit on the ground, still trapped by the shadows. The world is spinning, and voices mingle into one another while I try to put myself back together. Slowly, painfully, I lift my head to chance a peek at the fight around me, only to drop back down to the ground because there’s no way I’m really seeing what I saw.

 

I refuse to believe it. There is not a tower of ice in the middle of the fight. There is not a break in the fight because of this ice freezing the whips in the air, and the Bitch’s minions to the ground. There is not, and never has been, the form of Armin Arlert standing on top of that tower of ice controlling the frost that has stopped Blonde-Bitch and her lackeys. No fucking way.

 

The more the air gets in my body the more my head clears and I can hear more of the conversation around me. I can hear an argument. I can hear Armin screaming at someone named Annie. I can hear his perfect Latin. That’s his voice, there’s no denying it. This is not fucking happening. 

 

Before I can do anything, ice has blasted out over the park once again, and I’m scooped up into someone’s arms to run away. My vision bounces with every step my rescuer takes but I see it over their shoulder nonetheless: Blonde-Bitch and company fighting off any and all traveling ice before they can be circled and trapped inside a massive, frozen prison. Last I saw of them, Blonde-Bitch had locked eyes with me for a solid five seconds before turning away and retreating. Like I wasn’t going to have nightmares from this already.

 

The one saving grace from this whole debacle of a night was the sight of Sina safe and sound chasing after us. Other than that, I’d say this night was pretty fucked up.

.

.

.

 

“What the fuck was that?!” I slapped at the back still shuffling down an alley, away from the park and into safety. “Put me down! Was that Armin? Who are you people? How do you- What- Who the fu- PUT ME DOWN!”

 

The unceremonious thunk that was my backside hitting the ground did wonders for my mood. I scrambled back up to my feet to snarl at the monkey who dropped me, but whip around to find Bob and throw my arm out to point at the park. “That had better have been the worst of it because fuck all mighty, you canNOT tell me that you do this on the daily!”

 

Bob held his hands up to try and calm me down. “Jean, I know you’re scared-”

 

“Scared? Fuck no, I’m freaking the fuck out!” I shook my hands out to him, then each member of our sudden party in turn. “Thing One and Two pop up out of nowhere to fight off the Ringling Brothers while you take on Madam Resting Bitch Face and suck my-” Nope. Not going there. No matter how freaked out I am. “And you! You’re talking now? How did that happen? Fucking Robin Hood over there with her bow and arrow shit took down a shadow monster while Monkey boy here got his ass kicked by a giant- a fuc-king-gi-ant- BOB! All while you had me do some hocus pocus that  _ you  _ said-  _ YOU SAID THEY WOULDN’T SEE ME _ !”

 

Bob growled a frustrated huff, looking about ready to tear my head from my shoulders. “They wouldn’t have if you had hidden like I told you to!”

 

“Don’t turn this on me; they were going to kill you!”

 

“And now they’ll kill you!”

 

“The fuck they will!”

 

“JEAN!”

 

A flash of green, and suddenly, I can’t move. I’m frozen in place, and I can’t even breathe. It’s like the spell all over again. Wait. Fuck. 

 

“If you two could keep it down now, that’d be great,” Merida snipped. Monkey couldn’t be seen from my peripheral, but I could hear him snooping around at the end of the alley, probably keeping watch.

 

Somehow I remember to breathe again and it starts sounding ragged and deranged the more I struggle against the hold on me. With the bruising and most likely broken rib- this hurts like Hell, but I’m too focused on trying to get my fists on Bob to care at the moment. Bob can see the anger spilling from my eyes because he takes a moment to rub his hands up his face and take a deep breath before speaking to me. 

 

“Jean, I need you to calm down. Please.” I hope my grunting sounds enough like ‘fuck you’ for him to understand. This fucker isn’t getting out of this so easily. Bob doesn’t do anything besides keep his eyes on mine. “I promise, I’ll explain everything.”

 

It takes a few minutes, but I manage to handle my breathing down to a heavy pant. Bob waited only a moment longer before nodding, and the stone in my muscles was released. The instant the feeling had returned to my body again, I was swinging. Bob went down with a loud bang into the garbage and my hand hurt like Hell, but it was worth it. Merida grabbing my hair and yanking me back: not so much. Normally, I don’t mind a bit of hair pulling, but the knife is a major mood-kill. 

 

“Yeah, I deserved that,” Bob muttered, checking his jaw.

 

I pointed a finger at him, ignoring the knife at my throat from ponytail behind me because freezing me like that in the middle of an argument was a dick move. “Never. Again.”

 

Bob catches eyes with me and sighs, but nods agreement all the same. “Let him go, Sash.” The knife wavers against my skin for a moment but Bob nods again. “He’s a friend.”

 

“Real deal?” she asked, still holding on. Bob nodded, and she let go. “Good.”

 

Now that her hands are off of me, I can reach mine down to Bob. He looks to my hand for a brief second before accepting it, and I hoist him up. The Sash woman slips around me to tackle a hug into Bob. causing a chuckle to leak out of him and a whimper to leave her. Monkey boy had made his way back to us at the sound of our scuffle, but relaxed at the sight of the two hugging.

 

They pull apart as she huffs out a sigh, giving Monkey a chance to slip in for his hug while Merida was straightening out her blouse. “He didn’t hold you. I did.” She locked eyes with me. “But he still deserved that punch.”

 

“And you thanked me with a knife to my throat,” I say flatly. 

 

She shrugged. “I didn’t say you didn’t deserve it either.”

 

I can’t really blame her, but at the same time, I’m already sick of this woman. A sigh huffs out of me as well and I turn back to Bob just as he and Monkey clap hands into a handshake. “Alright. I’m calm,” I grumble. “Talk.”

 

“You’ll want to make it quick,” a familiar voice said. “I could only hold her off for so long.”

 

“YOU.” I whirled around to find none other than my star pupil Armin Arlert walking in from the end of the alley. “Explain. Now.”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t, professor,” he said. I’m not used to that look in his eyes. “Annie and the others will be able to track us down just as easily as I did you. We need to move.”

 

“Yeah, but can we trust you?” Monkey boy accused, clutching his hammer all the tighter. “How do we know-”

 

“You don’t,” Armin cut off. “You’ll just have to trust me for me. Either way, I’m taking the professor with or without you. I’m not letting Annie get her hands on him too.”

 

With that, Armin snagged a hold of my elbow and tugged to walk away, but I pulled back. “I’m not leaving without Bob.”

 

Armin turned back to me, eyes wide, but still dark. “ _ This _ is  _ Bob _ ?”

 

I smirked. “I take it you’ve met.”

 

“Jean,” Bob stepped up carefully to me, locking eyes with Armin before laying his hands on my shoulders and looking into my own eyes. “Armin is right. We need to go, but I promise…” He squeezed my shoulders to add emphasis. “I can finally tell you everything. And I promise, I’ll keep you safe.”

 

“Alright,” I huff. “Let’s just get out of here before Resting Bitch Face can catch up. We can debrief back home.”

 

A flicker of what looks like pain and embarrassment flinches over Bob’s face and he grimaces before responding hesitantly. “Actually… we can’t. That spell I gave you made you non-existent to them so long as you didn’t interact.” He paused to lick his lip, looking away for a moment before looking back. “They saw you when you joined the fight. They’ll be after you now.”

 

“Which is why you need to come with me,” Armin but in. “They don’t know about us; it’ll be safe long enough for you to figure something out.”

 

Bob’s friends didn’t look too pleased with that answer, but he kept his eyes on mine. “Your call.”

 

I don’t even have to think about it when I nod. “I trust him.”

 

The friends immediately grew tense at my answer and tried speaking over the other at the same time. 

 

“You can’t be serious.” 

 

“It’s an obvious trap!”

 

“If Jean trusts him, then so do I.” Bob’s eyes strayed from mine to say this, and I felt Armin’s grip tighten over my elbow. 

 

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Merida hissed, but drew closer to what was quickly growing into a huddle. She locked arms with Monkey behind Bob and held on tight to his coat, never dropping the glare she had with Armin. “Anything happens and I’ll kill you myself, Arlert.”

 

Armin said nothing, but dug something out of his pocket to throw in the air. Sina hopped up onto my shoulder and dug her claws into me, making me cringe, but it was Bob pulling me into his chest and whispering in my ear that made me ignore it.

 

“Don't look.”

 

I was a little preoccupied with the lack of personal space and trying to figure out what not to look at of Bob's, but still managed to watch the thing Armin threw up into the air suddenly explode into every color imaginable. Sound bombarded my ears from it and I flinched to try and cover my eyes or ears or something but it wasn’t enough. My eyes stayed open, and my hands clawed into Bob’s arms to keep me standing.

 

Color burned behind my eyes, every shade, every texture, every thing I couldn’t describe, it all burst around me in massive swirls that consumed our huddled little group. My ears rang and my breath was short and everything was moving too much too fast because there were colors I didn’t even know existed flashing into my face with much too much force. Just as suddenly, everything stopped, but my body kept moving. My brain was spinning around in my skull and my stomach was flipping itself inside out and oh fuck I need a trash can or something shi-

 

I stumbled over a low, stone wall and fell on my face, just managing to keep my hair out of my reprocessed dinner. How the fuck I ended up hung over a stone wall, ass in the air, puking my guts out into grass instead of a dirty back alley, I’ll never know. Well, maybe once everything starts making sense again. Up is down, down is sideways; yeah. I can work with this. Not really, just go with it. It’s been a pretty fucked up night so far, what’s a little more? Why are there still colors spinning around in my eyeballs?

 

A warm hand finds it’s way over my back and it steadies me, making the world slow around me and help me count my breathing. It takes a torturous amount of time for me to be able to close my eyes again, and the blissfulness of darkness steadies me further, pulling me away from the pain of freaking rainbows and hippie flowers. It’s shortly after that that my ears start working again, and I can hear the new voice that I’m quickly recognizing as Bob’s whisper to me.

 

“Bob?” I croak. I could pass for a frog right now. I probably am one. It's magic, who knows?

 

Bob hushes me before I can think on that idea and slows his hand over my back. “You’ll be alright,” he says, wonderfully quiet, bless him. “I’ve got you.”

 

The darkness is growing heavier on me, and I still can’t move my limbs. Oh. I’m passing out. “Bob…” 

 

“It’s alright, Jean, go to sleep.”

 

Sleep sounds nice right now. I’m supposed to be doing something though. No, he is. Huh? It’s something important, I know it. Except I don't. Maybe he knows.

 

“But… Bob…” I can hear a slight chuckle- is he laughing at me? I’ll have to remember to care when I wake up. Right now, that hand feels really good on my back, and his voice is comforting as it lulls me into a sense of peace. “Tell me…”

 

“Tell you what?”

 

“Tell…” It’s getting harder to think. “Tell me…”  

 

“If I tell you will you go to sleep?”

 

How do I nod again? I don’t know, I don’t remember. Remembering is too hard. I think he gets it though, because that hand is pulling me somewhere warm, and I can feel myself being cradled in it. This is nice. Now if only the spinning would stop. It’s close; I’m almost asleep. The cradling gets closer and warmer, and the hand at my back is rising up along my spine, over my head and towards my face as something tickles my ear with even more warmth when Bob finally answers me.

 

“My name is Marco."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I only have Google translate so halp me PLEASE. Really, I just pulled this 'spell' out of thin air but it works: )
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter that started it all
> 
> ======================================================
> 
> Strength of the moon and stars, I call to thee- ‘Lunae et stellarum viribus, ut et ego invocabo te.’
> 
> Grant me pardon from your wrath- ‘Da ueniam ira.’
> 
> Sleep on once duty is done, no more from you I ask - ‘Dormies super simul officium est, nihil amplius a te peto’
> 
> I ask your help to wrong a thief, who’s fallen from the path- ‘Auxilium tuum a me, ad iniuriam fur, qui de profectu in semita’
> 
> Return to me what has been stolen- ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est’
> 
> This is all I ask- ‘Hoc est a me’
> 
> Return to me what has been stolen- ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est’
> 
> This is all I ask- ‘Hoc est a me’
> 
> Return to me what has been stolen- ‘Ad me quod susceperat furto ablata est’
> 
> This is all I ask- ‘Hoc est a me’
> 
> ======================================================


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting answers is like pulling teeth, I swear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might as well keep up the roll I'm on. Tally-HO!
> 
> Still unbetad, still on my phone. Thou hath been warned.

 

 

\---

**Chapter 14**

\---

 

Purring rumbles against my cheek and even though I feel like shit, I know everything is okay. Sina is here. Sina is happy. That means that I’ll be happy here too. Eventually.

 

Weight over my eyes tells me that there’s a damp cloth there but that’s not what’s keeping my eyes closed. Even just thinking about opening them gives me an even bigger headache than the one I’ve already got rolling around in my brain. My poor skull.

 

Moving hurts. Seeing hurts. Talking will no doubt be just as painful. Still, as much as I’d like to, I know I can’t stay here forever… but I can put it off for a few more minutes. Actually, you know what? Fuck it. This is my life now.  I’m sure I could grow to love being a vegetable. 

 

Sina is warm against my neck and face and even though I’m sore, I know whatever I’m lying on is soft. I think there’s a fire going on to my left too, because I can feel the heat flicker over my bare cheek.

 

Also to my left, I could hear movement.  Quiet steps slowed and knelt down to my side, and then water was swirling around a bit before it trickled down into more water. The washcloth over my eyes was carefully picked away from my face, and suddenly I’m positive that there’s a fire because the light is burning me even from behind my eyelids.

 

The sound I made alerted the person taking care of me that I was somewhat cognizant of my surroundings and gasped slightly from my reaction. I groaned. Not whimpered. Groaned. Never believe otherwise. Don't believe the lies. 

 

“Why?” I whined.

 

“Jean?” I know this voice. I do, I know I do, I just can’t place it. Bless whoever the fuck this guy is though because they put the washcloth back over my eyes, this time colder and damper. “How’re you feeling?”

 

I’m pretty sure I’m dying.

 

“Hung over as fuuuck.” 

 

The voice chuckles at me. It’s a nice chuckle. “Sounds about right. Usually happens after a skip.” The hand takes a moment to scratch Sina behind the ears before readjusting my bangs out from under the washcloth. “You get used to it after a while. You shouldn’t have looked right at it though.”

 

“Th’fuck was I supposed t’know?” I slurred. “Still new t’this magic fuckery. Wave your wand. Fix me.”

 

The voice tsked. “Afraid there’s no cure for this one.”

 

I’m so done with this magic bullshit right about now.

 

“Where’m I?” I mutter instead. “S’gion’ on?”

 

“We’re safe,” the voice assures. “Armin took us to his place. We’re trying to figure things out right now.”

 

All at once, everything comes back to me. The fight, the bitch, the spells, everything. Including Armin. Including- 

 

Sina went flying when I sat up straight and regretted every decision I had ever made up to that point because everything stung, the world was still spinning and my ears were ringing again. Down I go. I don’t even register the voice speaking words, or the fact that I’ve landed funny on my pillow- where did that come from?- but I do recognise who it is now. 

 

“Mrr-” I cut myself off because who else is here? Who else knows his name? It’s supposed to be a secret, right? Slowly, painfully, I open my eyes to look around and only find a worried looking Bob. No; a worried looking Marco. 

 

“Marco,” I whisper, and his eyes widen. “Marco?”

 

He’s biting his lip, and his eyes widen further and I don’t know why he looks like he’s debating on laughing or not until he answers me. “Polo.”

 

“I’m putting you up for adoption,” I say flatly to the suddenly loud Marco laughing at his own joke, then flop back down into bed. Or a couch. I think this is a couch. “How can you even joke around like this after a night like that?”

 

“Well, like I said,” Marco snickered, catching his breath. “You get used to it. Besides, it had been so long since I could use that joke that I couldn’t resist.” 

 

The smile he’s giving me is the only reason I forgive him. How long had it been since he could use his name? Is it his real name or his public name? Do I still call him Bob or- he seems to see my inner dilemma and waves away my questions to put the washcloth back over my forehead. 

 

“You can call me Marco. My birth name is safe.” Now that smile falters, and he has to clear his throat. “It’s yours that I’m worried about.”

 

“What? Why?” What’s wrong with my name?

 

Marco shrugs, not because he doesn’t know but because he doesn’t know what to say. After a while, he answers me anyway. “That spell hid your name too. It still protected you physically, but… your face and name were fair game when you tried to help. If anyone used it, or even thought of it… Annie knows about it now. She can use it against you.”

 

“No she can’t.” I close my eyes and pull the washcloth over them. “No one used my name. End of story.”

 

There’s hesitants, but he still speaks. “You seem pretty confident-”

 

“Don’t worry about it, Marco; you’re not that careless,” I tell him. “Why don’t you get started on your promise instead?”

 

That got him. The hesitancy comes back up, and I can hear Marco settle down on the floor with a resigned sigh. “You sure you want to know all this?”

 

I snort- which I deeply regret- but move on. “I’ve had imps come after me for dinner, a cat that won’t talk to me, suddenly realized my ancient heritage through a hobo, had a shadow hold me down, trees kick my ass and got my brain wiped out by a paint shaker so that I could  _ escape  _ said shadow and tree master and their pet giant who now want to kill me. I’m pretty sure I want to know why.”

 

“Well when you put it like that…”  

 

Snickering hurts but it’s fine when Marco follows along with me. “Start talking, Freckles.”

 

Marco groaned. “I think I liked it better when you called me Silent Bob.”

 

“Yeah, you’re never getting out of either nickname. Now quit stalling.” I crossed my arms to scowl at him and watched him deflate with yet another sigh. “You promised.”

 

“I did,” he muttered, picking at the carpet. Then, with a deep breath, he raised his head to look me in the eye. “There are different types of witches.” He gestured a hand to me. “Benign, obviously. Elemental, energetic, dark and light are a few others.”

 

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch, Dorothy?”

 

He chuckles at my lame attempt at Glinda the Good Witch, but carries on, answering my roundabout question. “I’m an energy witch. Berthold was that shadow monster with dark magic, and Reiner is a shifter. Annie is the strange one.”

 

“Yes,” I say. “Because turning into a giant or melting into the ground is normal.”

 

“It is for them,” Marco sighs. “Annie originally was an ice witch but then…” His eyes slide away into a memory, and I wait for him to come back from it. “I messed up.”

 

There’s something there that he obviously doesn’t want to talk about. I can see him struggling over whether or not he wants to tell me because he thinks I want to know. I do, but I know he doesn’t want to, and I’d rather not push him and make him clam up sooner than I want. I still have questions. “Is that why she wants to kill you?” I ask instead, quietly.

 

Marco only shrugs, ticking his head to the side. “Partially. That good witch bad witch thing is the real deal too. She’s on the side that wants to turn everyone into a witch so we can come out of hiding.”

 

I blink. “That… actually doesn’t sound all that bad.”

 

“No, it doesn’t,” Marco shakes his head. “But not everyone is compatible with magic.”

 

“Meaning-?” 

 

“Meaning those who aren’t end up dying.”

 

Oh. Well. That puts a new perspective on things. Marco shifts on the ground to sit more comfortably while I consider what’s been told to me. “How exactly would Annie turn people into witches?”

 

“Exposure,” Marco said simply. “And it’s not just Annie; there’s a whole cult of them spread out over the world.”

 

That doesn’t make sense. A group like that would want to be known. “Then why haven’t we heard about it?”

 

“You have.” Still not making any sense. “It’s been all over the news.”

 

“I’m pretty sure I’d know if-” Suddenly, I understand now. The attacks. The gas. The bombs. The bodies. “The Titans.”

 

“Yep,” Marco whispers right alongside me, tracing patterns into the carpet with his eyes. “Found out that she’d been with them all along. When I tried to stop it, I only made things worse. Ever since, she’s had it out for me, and now you.” He turned his eyes to me, a stern look on his face. “This is why I didn’t want you to help.”

 

I can definitely see why. Damn my stubbornness. Still though, if things had stayed the same… I shrug. “Well, it is what it is.”

 

Marco scowled at this. “You don’t understand; you had everything going for you, and then I had to go and drag you in in all this. Annie is after you now, and she won’t stop until you’re gone for good.”

“First of all, I had to beat it out of you to let me in,” I tell him. “And I’m glad that I did because not only do you have your voice back, but your friends are back too. You have more back up. Now that you do, you can take her out.”

 

“It’s not that simple; she  _ will  _ find you and she  _ will  _ kill you.”

 

“Just gives you more incentive to stop her now.”

 

The look in his eyes is a mixture of shock and despair. I know I’m putting a lot on his shoulders to stop this Annie chick but it’s the only way to get him to believe that I’m alright. In all honesty, I’m really not scared, because I know Marco will protect me. I don’t know how I know, I just do. We’ve gotten pretty close over the last couple months. Real close… 

 

“Speaking of…” I mutter. “What, uh… what was that… in the park?”

 

A blink, a moment, and then: 

 

“Oh.” Marco turns his attention to the floor and runs the spare washcloth through the bowl of water again, a slight tinge of pink to his cheeks. But, that could be from the fireplace. “That spell I gave you was to get my voice back. Thank you, by the way.” I nod, allowing Marco to replace my washcloth again, despite it still being cold. “The uh, the glowing ball you saw was my voice. I had to get it before it bonded with you, and then I’d be right back where I started but with you instead of Annie.”

 

Ah. Of course. The cross of my arms tightens, and suddenly my fingernails are biting into my arm. “I’d have given it back; you know I would.”

 

“Yeah, but I needed my voice if I wanted to have any chance of beating Annie,” he muttered, absentmindedly. “Even with her powers switched, she’s a very powerful witch. If Armin hadn’t shown up, we probably wouldn’t have made it.”

 

“Where is that blonde bastard anyway?” I grumble. “He has some explaining to do himself.”

 

Marco blinks back to reality, a little put off by the tone of my voice. I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just irritated all of the sudden. “He, uh, he and the others holed up in the other room so we wouldn’t disturb you.” He knelt to stand, not making eyes with me. “I’ll go get him for you.”

 

“No, I’ll go-” I cut off with a groan because, oh yeah, I’m pretty sure I have a broken rib or two. What a pleasant reminder when I try to sit up.

 

Seeing me curl back to the couch in pain has Marco coming right back to me in an instant. I wave his hands away but that only makes him kneel down next to me. “Let me fix it.”

 

“I’ll be fine,” I mutter. “Just need to rest.”

 

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Marco said, shaking his head. “And I’m a little worried about internal bleeding.”

 

“Trust me,” I scoff. “If I were bleeding out, you’d know.”

 

Marco frowns through one of his signature stares, pouty lips and all. “Please, just stop being so stubborn and let me help.”

 

Before I can do anything, his hand is already sliding up my shirt and I hissed- oh… oh, boy. 

 

Thankfully, Marco doesn’t pay attention because my chest and gut are covered in bruises. He may be onto something about that internal bleeding thing. He looks to me again, frown still in place and waiting for my answer. After a nod, Marco lowers his hand down to my skin again and I have to hold my breath because it has been a  _ long time _ . Get your shit together, Kirstein.

 

While I’m busy focusing on anything other than those nice, warm hands on my body, they light up blue again. They’re not too bright, more like a glow, really, and it’s actually kind of… nice. A gentle wave rippled through my body, and the warmth of his hands put me at ease. Soft. He felt soft, like warm water. That’s a good way to describe Marco’s touch. It soaked into my skin and comforted my aching body, making me relax back into the couch. It barely took a few minutes but it felt like seconds and when he pulled away, I couldn’t help wanting him back. Not for that, of course, but… he has really nice hands.

 

The bruises have gone down to a dingy yellow and I can move around without hurting myself so I’d say his little healing bit did the trick. I shimmy my shirt back down over my torso and look up to thank him but frown and catch his face in one of my hands. His eyes widen at me, and he can’t decide if he wants to pull away or not, but I speak before he can choose.

 

“Your eyes are lighter.” His eyes widen again and he finally yanks his face away from my hand because my voice leaves no room for bullshit. “You just made yourself weaker because of me, didn’t you?”

 

“They’re lighter from the fight,” Marco snips, bundling up the water bin and old washcloth to leave. “I’ll go get Armin for you.”

 

“Don't bother,” I huff, tossing the blanket off. If he's gonna be like that then two can play at this game. Standing up doesn't feel like I'm losing to a baseball bat anymore, and my head has finally decided to stop spinning, but the world is slightly tilted… I can work with this. 

 

Marco stalks off through the door before I can but it gives me the chance to walk out of here without looking like an idiot trying to get to the exit. When I do, I stop. The whole gang is there, Merida, Monkey, Sausage and Armin, all gathered around in a cozy living room glaring at one another. This isn't what stops me, though. 

 

In between the obvious sides lays the beast Eren had driven up to campus with before. The pillow it laid on could have bedded an entire family in some small, third-world country who can't afford shoes, but this behemoth covers most of it. It's ears perked when I stepped up to the doorway and looked to me with big, green eyes. Armin noticed it's change in interest and looked up to me with exhaustion laid bare all over his face.

 

“Jean,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

 

I swallowed hard and tried to clear my throat, but my voice was still small when I answered. “I'm alright.”

 

Eren scowled at me, clearly not liking my apparent stiffness. “You look like you just stepped up to Freddy Krueger,” he grumbled, then pointed to the beast. “Still got a problem with pitts, loser?”

 

Now I'm scowling. “Shut it, Jaeger.”

 

That stupid sausage only barks out a dry laugh. “If this puff bucket bothers you, then you should really take a look at some chihuahuas. That ‘cute’ thing they've got going on is just a disguise.”

 

The beast is still looking at me, but rises slowly to stand, saliva dripping from it's massive jowls and I go even stiffer. Eren scoffs, but Armin shuts him up. “Take him to the other room, Eren.”

 

I can't really see the look on Eren’s face because I'm focused on that thing, but I can tell it's not a good look from the sound he made. “You and I both know that Joey’s harmless; I'm not going to let some prejudice asshole-”

 

“Just do it,” Armin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. Eren huffs once more with a scowl turned my way, and he steps up to guide the thing away, muttering to it softly. Armin waits until Eren shuts it behind a door before turning back to the group. “We need to figure things out.”

 

“We have things figured out,” Monkey said. “You’re just being stubborn.”

 

The look of pure and utter detestation in Armin’s eyes as he glares at the guy is something I’m not even close to being used to, and it sends a shiver down my spine. “This is not up for discussion; he’s staying here and that’s final. You’re the ones who need to find some place safe.”

 

The woman sneered at Armin. “He’s not your pet-”

 

“He’s my friend-”

 

“He’s standing right here.” Marco stops the little spat between Armin and Marco’s friends by clapping a hand over my shoulder. “So why keep arguing when you can settle things here and now?”

 

Wait. What? 

 

“You guys are fighting over  _ me _ ?” I ask, a little incredulous. “Seriously?”

 

“That’s what I said,” Eren snipped, coming back from the hallway. “You’re not worth the effort.”

 

“Stuff it, Jeager,” I snip right back, but turn to look at Armin. “I told you before, I’m not leaving without Bob. Er, Marco.”

 

A dark shadow fell over Armin’s eyes, losing the bright friend I found in him. “I can’t keep them all here. It’s not safe.”

 

“Then we’ll go somewhere where we can be safe,” I say. “Who said you had to babysit?”

 

Armin was already irritated, but he looked even more angry and fed up the more that people spoke. “You don’t even know these people; you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

 

“I could say that about just about anybody at the moment.” He’s not the only one who’s fed up. Armin and I stare each other down, and I can see years of age behind his eyes that had never been there before. He was angry, tired, scared. At least I could still read him now. Before… it was like I was with a completely different person. 

 

Finally, Armin broke his gaze away with a sigh, and stood up to head towards me. “I need to speak with you.” He stepped past me without another glance, leaving Eren behind to fend for himself against Marco and his friends. Marco and I caught eyes with each other, but he looked away after a moment. Seems he’s not comfortable with this whole situation either. I sighed a little heavily, then gave in and turned back to the room. Armin was waiting for me, arms crossed and head down, but his eyes were locked onto me. “That wasn’t fair.”

 

“Fair?” I scoff. “What the fuck does that even count for? ‘Fair’ doesn’t work on a  _ normal  _ day. This whole night has been a total freak show and then you show up to top the whole damn thing with a bright, fucking red cherry. You think it’s fair for me to sit in the dark on something like this?”

 

“It was to protect you,” Armin said tersely.

 

“Bullshit!” I nearly shout. “I’m so sick of being told ignorance is better. I’m a part of this now whether you like it or not, and trying to hide me away from it is not going to help a damn thing.” 

 

Something flickers in Armin’s eyes, and the anger melts away to sadness, but his expression holds. “I never wanted you to-”

 

“Well it’s too late for that now, isn’t it?” I snip, then hold up a finger. “Start talking.”

 

Now his expression folds. Armin lowers his eyes and holds his arms a little tighter, and if I weren’t so angry, I’d have tried to comfort him. But Armin lied to me. He lied to me about a lot of things. Too many things. Armin rubs a hand up his arm and takes a breath before speaking again, eyes still out of reach.

 

“We were sent to watch you,” he starts. “Just to make sure you were kept safe.”

 

My eyes darken. “Who sent you?” Armin shook his head. “Who sent you, Armin?”

 

“Friends,” he huffs. “Members of society that want the same thing I do.” He slipped some hair behind his ear and worried his lip. “It was our job. Eren and I needed to get close to you, and we needed to stay close.”

 

Close. Of course. An unbidden laugh bubbles up out of me, and I can’t help but sneer at him. “Close.” I step up closer to him, dropping my voice to look him right in the eye. “You really are a good liar, Armin. You had me going for so long, and I was the idiot to fall for it. Then again, it figures seeing as you’re always so committed.” Armin turned his eyes to me, but I don’t give him the chance. “What better way to do your job than to get in my bed?”

 

I never see it, I barely even feel it at first, but the fire in Armin’s eye as his hand leaves my cheek is the only thing I comprehend when the sting of his slap hits me all at once. I stare, completely dumbfounded at him, but his eyes are still burning with a newfound rage. 

 

“Call me a witch,” he growled. “Call me a geek. Call me a bastard. Call me everything that I am, but do  _ not  _ call me things I’m not, because I am  _ not a liar _ .”

 

There he is. There’s my Armin. I’m still staring at him like an idiot because I have him back. No scared little thing, no hateful monster, no bad ass witch killer. Just. Armin. 

 

After a moment or so, I finally regain myself and take a step back, but Armin and I keep each other’s gaze. Neither of us dare to leave. “So,” I mutter. “What now.”

 

Armin stares me down for a moment longer before pushing back some hair that had strayed from the force of his slap. “Marco and the others need to leave.”

 

“Then so do I,” I say, and he gives me a tired look. “I told you. I’m not leaving him.”

 

“You also told me that he ran away, and that you only wanted to be friends. Clearly, things have changed,” he says. I puff up to deny him but Armin moves on before I can. “You’re welcome here but I can’t keep them as well. It’s not safe.”

 

“Then we need somewhere that is.” My eyes never leave his. “What do I need to look out for?”

 

Armin looked to me, his eyes tired and worried, until finally, he gave in, and stepped away to a chest in the corner. It's not until now that I notice how different this room is. It looks to be a sort of work room, with a desk and bookshelves, but plants and herbs hang from the ceiling and walls. Paper and books scatter around the place, and I can't help but feel like I've stumbled across miracle max’s hut instead of Armin’s study. 

 

“Annie can’t find you if you protect yourself enough.” Armin dug around in the chest for a bit before coming out with more herbs and bowls. “I can make you some charms and give you some sigils, but you’ll need someplace to lie low in until we can figure out how to stop her.” Armin stood up and turned around to look at me, still holding his ingredients. “There’s another blizzard coming. If you go anywhere, make sure it’s warm.”

 

“I’ve got a few ideas,” I tell him. Armin doesn’t believe me though, I can see it in the dip of his head, in the way he busies his hands, the way he doesn’t say anything. I step up to him, holding a hand out like an idiot because I want to touch his shoulder, but I don’t know if I can. “Armin… Why?”

 

I don’t know how to ask what I’m asking, but Armin- blessed, little Armin- he seems to know what I want. He always does. His hands stop crushing herbs in a mortar, and he sighs quietly. “They don’t trust me,” he says. “If I let them stay, and something happens… there’s no guarantee that I’ll wake up in the morning.”

 

“That doesn’t sound right,” I mutter. “What’s it got to do with you anyways?”

 

At this, Armin lowers his head with a defeated laugh, shaking his head sadly. “Annie is my sister.”

 

Well that’s new. I always thought he was an only child. Then again, I always thought Armin was a geeky little college kid instead of a witch so, I guess it shouldn’t be too surprising. “Okay, but…” I step up closer to him while he starts working again. “You don’t feel the same way Annie does though, do you?” He shook his head, eyes still hiding. “Then it shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t be you who they blame.”

 

“That doesn’t stop them.” Armin sounds so tired. “History shows that we can’t get along. I’m tired of trying.”

 

That statement is what makes me stop. He doesn’t want to talk about it, and I don’t want to push. We’ve stepped over too many lines tonight; things are a bit raw right now. I may be pissed at the little shit, but I certainly don’t want to lose him forever. I care about him. He doesn’t seem to get that, though.

 

“I’m not choosing them over you,” I whisper, and his hands stop again. Just a second, then back to work they go. “Will you stay close?”

 

“Of course,” Armin nodded, still looking to his work. “It’s… it’s not just my job.”

 

I sigh through my nose, and take a minute to answer. “I know.”

.

.

.

 

It doesn’t take long for Armin to finish making my charms and protection spells, and in that time, I’ve already figured out a plan. Armin is careful when he packs away the spells and hands them to me in a backpack, which I take with a nod of thanks. The group hanging out in the living room jumps when the bedroom door opens suddenly, and I walk out swinging the bag onto my back.

  
“Okay,” I announce. “Here’s the plan.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm debating. Really debating a ship that I don't normally ship but it would really work well with this story line. There's also the fact that I still can't figure out the end result in making it happen but it would just be so perfeeeeeeeeeeeeeect..... Thoughts?


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All settled in for the night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there's a joke in here that is lighthearted an not meant to offend in the slightest, but if it does bother you, I apologise in advance. I never meant any offence to anyone.
> 
> In other news, I'm not as skilled in multi-tasking as I thought I was. At least- I was pretty good until I got knocked away from using a computer XD
> 
> So, so sorry for the long wait. I hope you guys can enjoy it nonetheless and thank you so much for sticking with me I love you so much

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 15**

\---

 

“Oh, fuck.” 

 

I double over and cling onto my knees to take deep breaths. Armin had offered to drive us, and that would have been perfectly fine, but that bitch Sasha and ass-hat Connie -as they had finally been introduced to me as- had  _ insisted  _ that we take another skip so that we knew for sure that we would all end up safely on campus. I was smart enough not to look this time, but my stomach was still twisted up from the last skip, and I was having trouble discerning up from down. Once again, Marco dutifully rubbed a hand over my back and I was too sick and grateful to care about how I looked at the moment. I’m going to kill those two.

 

“We need to get inside,” Marco whispered to me. “Can you walk?”

 

With one big breath, I stand up straight and hold it in to keep from toppling over. A nod and too many quick steps later, we’re headed for the arts wing. I had chosen the school because I knew for a fact that the cameras from fifty billion years ago had all been dead since about a week after they had been installed, so that checked off a major safety factor in the list of needs we had for a safe place to stay. There was also the fact that it was abandoned until after the new year, the theater department had furniture and props we could use to sleep on, and the locks were easier to pick than a little girl’s diary. Easy pickin’s.

 

As silent as I could, I lead the group to the theater department. The sun was beginning to rise, but the air was still dim with night. We hid in the shadows, moving only when we knew there was nothing and no one in front of us. By the time I got to the theater doors, my hands were shaking from the cold. Didn’t stop me from popping that sucker, though. One by one, we filed inside, and after a few more locked doors, we all managed to make it into the auditorium. 

 

“Alright,” I sigh, watching Sina sniff around the area. “Backstage has the workshop behind it, so the tools and props and everything will be locked up with it.” I point in the other direction. “Dressing rooms for the guys are on this side, gals on that side. They have showers in them so. You know. Score.” I stretched to pop my shoulders. “I’ll see if Ms. Smith still has her mini-fridge in her office. Otherwise, there’s the concession booth’s pantry and a vending machine in the lobby until we can get some real food.”

 

Marco smiled at me, soft and tired. “Thanks, Jean. This is perfect.”

 

“Yeah, Connie grinned. “I haven’t had a hide-out like this since I was a kid.” He turned his smile to me, eyes alight with jokes even through his exhaustion. “You must have some kick-ass survival instincts. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had experience living on the run.”

 

That brings a snort out of me. “Yeah,” I mutter, and Marco catches my eye in a knowing glint. “Experience.”

 

“I’m going to grab us some food,” Sasha announced. “I’m starving.”

 

“Stick with the vending machine for now; I’ll get the pantry in a sec,” I sigh, picking up my makeshift kit. “I want to get the props first to see what we can do for beds.”

 

“I’ll help,” Marco says, followed closely by Connie. Sasha snags a bag and heads off on her own to the lobby to fill it while the guys and I head backstage. I can see the door off to the side, and even though I had that whole coma moment after the first skip, my hands are a little too tired to handle this lock as quickly as the others. I manage to get it after a few minutes and stand up with a sigh; though not without a concerned look from one freckled witch. “You okay?”

 

I nod to Marco, putting much needed pressure on the base of my back with my hands. “Long night. Ready for bed.”

 

“Dih-tto,” Connie enunciated,  then stepped up past me to the props room. “I say we get this done quick so I can get my beauty sleep.”

 

“Lord knows you need it,” Marco chuckles, and Connie only chuckles with him. They filter through the cubbies labeled with different things like tools, silverware, picture frames and the like until a full blown shiver took over Connie. Marco noticed this, and frowned. After all that time out on the streets, I’m sure he’s used to the cold by now, but Connie and Sasha- that’s another story. I know exactly what he’s going to say when we catch eyes again for a split second before going back to filtering. “It’s a little too cold in the auditorium though, isn’t it? I mean, I could see my breath in there. Should we find a more conducive place to set up shop?”

 

“I can see about the offices,” I say, shutting a drawer filled with doilies. “Ms. Smith usually has a blanket on the back of her chair, and the common room has a couch, so those could work for something.” Since those two are browsing around through the drawers, I decide to head upstairs. The caged off area spreads up and over the workshop to keep the theater department’s trinkets out of the way, and it makes our search that much longer. It’s here where I find the mattresses. “Yatzee.”

 

“Careful, your Jewish is showing,” Marco muttered, but I could hear him clear as day.

 

“First of all, if it were anybody else, I’d have kicked your ass for that,” I tell him, leaning down the stairs to catch his eyes. “Second, I found the mattresses they use for the shows.”

 

“Get used to it,” Connie tells me, climbing up the stairs to help. “He can say anything offensive because he has that angel face of his. People can’t get mad at him. It’s impossible.”

 

“Doesn’t stop me from kicking his ass to the floor tonight.” That earns me a high five. Marco smirks at us as he rises up the stairs, but a tick of his eyes has him coming closer to me. Gently, he placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a concerned look, asking if I’m actually offended. I just cock a brow at him and brush him off lightly to pick up a bagged up comforter set. I have a feeling he won’t be trying his luck again any time soon. “Connie, take these downstairs, will ya? The common room should be in between the locker rooms. I’ll get the lock in a sec.”

 

“Nah, I got it, man,” Connie says, taking more bagged comforters. “You’re not the only one with survival skills.” 

 

With that, he gives me a wink and walks off down the stairs. Wait a minute. Seriously? If he could pick a lock then why have I been doing all the work? That little shit. Marco snickers at my inner dialog read plainly over my face, but he quickly turns it into a cough when I send a glare his way. He’s a little shit too.

 

“Come on,” Marco says. “Let’s get these out of here.”

 

There were a few foam rolls that were easy enough to just toss down the stairs, an ass load of pillows and two twin sized mattresses that came with it’s own trundle and day bed- both of which were too much of a pain in the ass to try and figure out how to assemble. There was a queen as well, but we decided that it would be enough with what we had. Neither of us wanted to struggle with it after having to mess with the twins. Why the fuck did Ms. Smith put these up here? The fuck is wrong with her? Sadist.

 

We ended up with pretty much a little nest of pillows and plush in the middle of the common room by the time we finally got all of the bedding down. Sasha had scored pretty much the whole vending machine, and it took me a minute to realize that she raided the pantry as well, but by then, I was too tired to care about who can do what. I just snatched up a bag of chips and jerky before she could gorge them all herself, and set up on one of the twins. 

 

Sina had claimed my pillow already, and seeing as I didn't have anything good for her, I gave her my bag of beef jerky for dinner. I'd find her something better soon. She gobbled it all up, grumbling adorably with each chewy bite, and I couldn't help but pet her as I settled down beside her.

 

All of the bedding smelled of dust and lysol, but it was better than the floor, and a lot warmer than the auditorium. There was food, a warm place to sleep, and a safe place to hide out at for a little while. This isn’t half bad. A lot better than a lot of places I’d had to sleep in before. I’m pretty pleased with myself. Pat yourself on the back, mother fucker, you’re content in a shitty situation. Gold star.

 

“We’re going to have to scrounge tomorrow,” Sasha said, interrupting my contentedness. Way to go. “Unless we can live off of popcorn for however long we’re staying here, we’re going to be out of rations soon.”

 

I snort at this. “Maybe if you hadn’t stuffed your face we’d be good for another day.”

 

“Hey!” Connie shot up to rub a hand over Sasha’s belly. “Leave my baby alone.”

 

Oh fuck. Way to go, Kirstein. “Sorry, didn't know.”

 

Marco was busy sniffing around his own bag of treats when he spoke up. “They're not pregnant, that's just what he calls her stomach.”

 

You've got to be kidding me. I don't even say anything, just stare at the two weirdos across from me beaming proudly at one another.

 

“Yup,” Sasha said. “He's my belly’s biggest fan.”

 

I don’t know how, but Marco managed to deadpan even louder at them. All we could do was share a disgruntled look and carry on with our dinner.

 

Sasha snickered as well, picking through a bag of gummy bears while Connie continued to rub her belly, practically lying in her lap to do so. “We wouldn't even know what to do with ourselves. Can’t really hunt with a bun in the oven, y’know?”

 

Wait a second; did I hear that right? “‘Hunt?’” I ask. “So, you actually use your powers to catch your dinner?”

 

That little shit Connie bust out laughing and had to roll away from Sasha to keep from flailing on her. “Oh my God, could you imagine?”

 

While he lost his shit and Sasha tried not to choke on her food, Marco took pity and leaned over to explain things. “Sasha’s the witch. Connie is a common born but knows about our side of the block because he's a hunter. It's his job to go after rogues like rabid werewolves or ghosts gone poltergeists.”

 

Un-fucking-believable. “Dear God, he's a Winchester.” 

 

At my deadpan, Connie sat up abruptly and pointed with wide eyes and a smile. “I like that; just call me Sammy.”

 

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Firstly, you're more of a Garth than a Moose. Second, there's too much inaccuracy in that show, regardless of how much I love it.”

 

“Be that as it may, it's still a kick ass show,” Connie snickered. “I vote we have an impala themed nursery.”

 

“Now that I can get behind,” Sasha agreed, and smiled as Connie melted under her fingernails scratching over his scalp. Her smile softened the longer she looked at him, content in her lap, but soon enough, she was serious again. “Fun stuff aside, we need to get back to business. We need a plan.”

 

Marco hummed agreement, looking down sullenly at nothing in particular. “More than one.”

 

Connie rolled over onto his back to keep his head in Sasha’s lap. Shen went right on scratching his head once he settled, but he stared up at the ceiling and started counting off his fingers.

 

“Still need to get Annie so we’re all safe, need to get her for the general public safety, need to get her to forget Marco’s name and or stop trying to kill us all-”

 

“We're not going to figure anything out right now.” I crumpled up my empty bag of chips and tossed it away with a sigh, interrupting the growing list on Connie’s fingers. 

 

The despondency quickly weighing Marco down the more Connie spoke seemed to go right over his bald, little head. Damn ape was making him feel responsible even though it was completely and undeniably not his fault. Wouldn’t stop Marco from taking the blame, though. I shook my head, running my fingers through my hair with a sigh to carry on. 

 

“It's way too late to worry about anything and I'm pretty sure Monkey over there is drunk with sleep deprivation.” I earned an indignant squawk for that. “It’d be best for us to get some sleep now and plan later. One thing at a time.”

 

“That sounds good,” Marco mumbled. He was leaning over so heavily that I'm pretty sure it was the bags under his eyes that was pulling him down to bed. “We'll be able to survive better with clearer heads.”

  
With the sun peaking through the hallway windows and the general consensus being ‘fucking tired,’ I was grateful for the decision that sleep was our number one priority. I don't know about anybody else, but once my head hit the pillow and Sina was curled up under my chin, I was out like a fucking light for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slow night but informative nonetheless...? I'm not gonna lie, it's going to be kinda slow for the next few chapters but I'm trying to fix that 
> 
> PLEASE tell me what you think, your comments are my lifeblood


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions are annoying sometimes. Usually exhausting too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> No nightmare descriptions this time but it does start out with a mild but disoriented panic attack. Please take care of yourselves.
> 
> Something I've learned about myself is that i'm more inspired to write when I read/re-read your comments ^_^
> 
> So there's that. I'm sorry I'm so slow with the updates but I love you guys for sticking it out with me! I've written about four more chapters for Fresh so I really need to catch up on this end but, I promise you'll be seeing more soon ;]
> 
> Again, unbetad and still on my phone. Oi -_-"

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 16**

\---

 

“No, God, stop!”

 

I jumped back away from the claws trying to gut me, eyes wide and arms up to protect me from any more attacks.  I was dizzy; why was I dizzy? Breathing is kind of hard too- oh, I guess that explains it. Air can't get to my lungs no matter how hard I try and my vision is just too blurry to try and figure anything out; all I know is that I need to get _away_ , those claws aren't stopping, and I’m out of space to escape.

 

“Breathe, Jean.”

 

I know that voice.

 

“You're okay, just breathe.”

 

The claws are held out wide before me, no longer chasing or slashing like before. The voice continues to coo at me, sweet and careful, and soon enough, I'm able to do as it says and take deep, slow breaths. Everything slows down, my head stops pounding and the roar in my ears has died away. My lungs gratefully take in the air they were denied and my vision clears because of it, showing me big, brown eyes.

 

“What the Hell, Marco?” He sighs a breath of what looks like relief when I finally recognize him. Before either of us can say more, there's a string of concerned meowing coming from the hallway and down the stairs. Sina meows all the way into my arms and begins pressing her head intently into my chest. Automatically, my hands go to hold her and start petting her down her back but my eyes go to Marco. He's still staring. Shit. “What the fuck do you want?”

 

Marco blinks back to reality with a jolt and runs a hand over the back of his head, looking away as though he was caught doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Namely: waking me up. “Uh- you were panting in your sleep.” He turned his eyes back to me and spoke softer. “I just wanted to make sure you were ok.”

 

Well shit. He just had to get me in the middle of a nightmare didn't he? I'm not in the mood for anything ever so I push Sina away and stand up. I need something to focus on, something I can control, something that won't force me to talk to anybody- especially Marco. Bed making it is.

 

The blanket gets a good thrashing as I furl it into the air, and even though my back is to Marco, the jerk doesn't seem to get that I don't want to talk. His eyes are way too heavy on my shoulders. Not good.

 

“Jean-”

 

“Where are the others?” Fine. If he wants to talk, we'll talk but fuck anything he asks. Marco pauses a moment but answers quietly.

 

“They woke up about an hour ago.” I made sure to tuck the ends of my sheets under the corners of my mattress. Tight as a drum. “You were still asleep after they finished eating so they went to shower. Maybe ten minutes ago.”

 

My hands smooth out every wrinkle in the fabric. Eyes never leaving. Neither mine nor his. “Why don't you go join them?”

 

“Wanted to check on you,” he says simply. My pillow needs a good fluffing. “It's after three. Figured something was keeping you.”

 

My bed could put a soldier's to shame, and yet Marco still won't take a hint. Time for the next bed.

“You know, after the last few weeks, it wouldn't be surprising to be a little disturbed by what you saw.”

 

Shut up, Marco. For the love of everything; just shut up.

 

“I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me sometimes.”

 

This bed’s done. Let's do the next. He'll figure it out sooner or later.

 

“There's nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

That does it. This little shit just doesn't know when to quit, does he? I throw the pillow I'm working with down and turn on him, a snarl on my lips. “Ashamed of what, Marco? Huh? The fact that you can't mind your own fucking business?” His eyes meet mine and I'm pissed all over again as I step up to him. “You're right, I _don't_ have anything to be ashamed of because I didn't _do_ anything; so what do you want, huh? What do I have to do to get you the fuck out of my face?”

 

His expression is calm as we square up, but me? Oh, I am _pissed._ I dare him to say something, _anything,_ I don't care what, I'll kick his ass into next week. If he wanted a fight, well then he's got one now, mother fucker.

 

Instead, he stared at me, his eyes soft and calm. It pissed me off even more. After a few minutes, Marco finally took a step back, eyes still on mine, and after another moment, turned away to walk up the stairs and out of the common room, leaving me alone with Sina. Said feline was watching me like a hawk from the arm of the couch.

 

“What?” I hiss at her. “You want to start something too?”

 

She stays silent; I don't even get a meow in return, and her big, green eyes are still on me. I turned my back to her as well and pick up the abandoned pillow to finish what I started, determined to make a point. Sina had other ideas, and promptly hopped from the couch to my back from where I'm stooped over with a meow.

 

“Sina, get off.”

 

She ignored me, and began kneading her paws in between my shoulder blades.

 

“Sina,” I warn, but she doesn't listen.

 

Next thing I know, she's rubbing her head in my hair and purring like the beast she is. She's going in for the kill, I just know it. Before I can stop her though, she breaks me with the smallest of mews, and nibbles gently on the shell of my ear to try and groom the longer hair flipping over the top of it.

 

Finally, with a great heave of a sigh, I give in and lean down to sit on the couch. Sina mews again and repositions herself so that she can easily crawl into my arms while still nuzzling my neck, never once leaving me while I move to sit. God I love her. She knows me too well. It's annoying.

 

She lets me pet her, lets me touch her, lets me calm down with physical reassurance just like she always does whenever I wake up like this. Nobody can understand just how delirious and irritable I get after one of these nights, but Sina has been through each and every episode and handled it like a champ. Everybody else runs away, but not Sina. She understands. She knows. I'm not myself.

 

These moments when I break are always something no mere mortal can handle on their own. Somehow though, Sina can, and I'm grateful to her each and every time. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have made it this far without her.

 

I look down to her fondly while she melts under a cheek scratch, and I can feel the pur she's rumbling out from deep within her through it.  

 

“I still don't know how to talk to you,” I whisper to her. “But I do know how to thank you.”

 

The purring doubled in strength after that, and she choked out a meow in response. I dropped my head back along the couch with a sigh. What a fucking idiot. I shouldn't even feel bad but I do.

 

Marco knows I have a short temper. He knows I don't like being cornered, knows I don't like talking about myself, knows that even on a good day, I'm no good with mornings. He knows this, and yet he still pushed. So I snapped.

 

You'd think I'd put all of the blame on him, and a good majority of it does fall on his shoulders, the ass hat. Still though, it's been years. I should have gotten over this a long time ago. I just can't let go of it. That… that Marco doesn't know. And he never will. No one will. Not if I don’t get too close.

 

“It's probably for the best,” I whisper again. “Can't get too distracted on a job.”

 

Sina grumbles shortly to me, too concerned with the scratches I'm giving her to really respond, but I know she's listening. The purring stopped. I sigh again and offer one last stroke down her back before standing up to find something to eat. The stash we managed to grab last night is considerably smaller, and there is the unfortunate fact that there's nothing even remotely close to something edible for my Little Bit. Guess it's time to scrounge again.

 

Of course, before my quest to find Sina and myself some breakfast can begin, footsteps echo through the hall heading towards the common room. I'm really not in the mood to deal with Marco or anyone else right now, so I'm really not looking forward to having to talk to them. A quick escape before they walk in is my only chance.

 

“Hey, sleeping beauty!”

 

Well, fuck.

 

Connie grins at me with a hearty slap on the back in welcome. “About time. Thought we'd have to find a prince to wake you up.”

 

“Why do you think I sent Marco?” Sasha chimed, dropping a set of clothes onto her freshly made bed. Marco doesn't even bother looking at me while he drops his own clothes. Smart man. Sasha turned back around and set her hands on her hips. “The costume room has pretty much everything you could ever want and then some if you want to change clothes,” she informs me, sporting a rather frilly, maroon skirt as an example. “Couldn't find any shampoo but the soap dispensers were good enough for now.”

 

I shirk off Connie’s hand and head towards the stairs, not bothering to slow down. “The bookshop has basic stuff to sell for campus life. I'm gonna go check there.”

 

“Hey, good thinking!” Connie said, then ran right up to me on the steps. “I'll come along and help you carry stuff.”

 

Double fuck.

 

“It's fine, I can handle it on in my own,” I tell him as he rushes ahead of me. “It’d be better if we stayed more stealthy during the day, just to be on the safe side. Two people hanging out in front of every door along the way would definitely count as suspicious.”

 

No sooner had I thought that maybe I can get out of this, Connie fucking Springer turns another one of his dopey smiles at me, swirling a set of keys around his fingers.

 

“No worries, man. I already raided the janitor’s closet for the master key.”

 

That little fucking shit. I got nothing. He knows it too; that smug little smirk of his isn't an accident, he _planned_ this, the little fucker. He wanted me alone, and I played right into it. Fucking Hell. You know what? One more fuck for good measure: FUCK.

 

The string of curses don't end there as I follow this little shit monkey out to the lobby and curse his very existence. I need to keep an eye on this guy; I didn't give him enough credit. We stop at the doors leading to the courtyard and crack one open to peak out. With the coast clear, we make our way towards the main building one silent step at a time.

 

The campus itself is small compared to a big league school, but it's big nevertheless. The classes are separated by buildings which are divided into wings and sections all over a few acres of land right smack dab in the middle of some really, _really_ cheap apartments that border the main streets surrounding the school. At least four of those apartments are filled about two-thirds of the way with the student population. That's where the bookshop comes in.

 

Not only do the students need their expensive, rather useless-after-the-first-week books, but because of the surrounding apartments, it also serves as a small convenience store. Which, honestly, it's helped me a few times too if we're sharing. It sells the basics like school supplies, lame school logo sweatshirts, Oprah’s next best book or in the typical slacking college kid style: household necessities and groceries.

 

“Wow,” Connie muttered, looking around the store. “For a community college, this place ain't half bad.”

 

“It has its perks,” I muttered right back. I break away from him immediately after stepping foot through the door and set to work grabbing a hand basket to browse through my options. Connie heads over to the snack section which I am forever grateful for, and starts loading up on ritz cheese crackers. At least he had good taste. “Try not to take too much.”

 

Connie doesn't say anything but I notice his nod from the corner of my eye. While he's busy with that, I roam around in the home goods section, scoring some shampoo and body wash. It takes a few minutes which were blissfully silent, but we managed to make a good haul. But, as do all good things, the silence had to come to an end.

 

“So, you and Marco, huh?”

 

I almost dropped the conditioner I found lodged in the back behind a dozen other shampoos. “We're _not_ a _thing_ ,” I hiss. “So get it out of your head.”

 

Connie only shook his head. “Nah man, it's fine either way, I just… ” He won't look at me, he's paying more attention to a package of chewy chocolate chip cookies. “It’s hard to believe it's only been a few months but… a lot’s changed. He's different, you know?”

 

“No, I don't,” I say, shoving the conditioner into my basket. Oh look, dog food. Cat food shouldn't be too far.

 

“He wouldn't say anything about it,” Connie goes on, still keeping his eyes anywhere but me. “About his time on the streets. He's not the type of guy who wants people to worry about him.”

 

That I do know. Marco’s made that perfectly clear, even without words. Ah, there's the cat food.

 

“I can tell though. It was hard on him.” For once, Connie turned to face me. “Believe it or not, Marco used to be a little chubby.” Connie snickered away to the floor. “He still had his baby fat this close to thirty.” The smile dropped away. “It's gone now. Along with about two pant sizes.”

 

I don't bother to mention how roughly that box of macaroni is shoved into Connie’s basket. We both know he didn't mean to do it.

 

“He wouldn't stop talking about you,” Connie continued, moving on to canned soup. “After we finally met back up, after all the worries we had over him,  all he could say was that he was fine. No matter what we asked him, he always said he was fine because you took care of him.”

 

The two of us seem to be done looting the store, but neither of us really want to meet up just yet. So, we just stand there, watching each other from across the room.

 

“He trusts you… And I have a feeling I will too.” I have no doubt for how valuable this is for both of us. “Thanks for looking out for him, and… I'm sorry you're dragged into this now.”

 

Again, I have no doubt in his words. We stand there for a minute or two until I nod to him. “Nobody dragged me anywhere,” I mutter. “I jumped right in.”

 

A cackle ripped out of Connie with one of his trademark smiles. “Guess you're a bigger moron than the rest of us, huh?”

 

“Shut up, you monkey.” I can't be bothered with his bullshit right now, I haven't even eaten yet, it's too early for this crap. Connie stumbled up to the register to bag our shit and wait for me while I made my way to the food section again. The fridges had been emptied and turned off to conserve energy so I just stuck to the snacks like Connie did. Lucky me, they've got those cherry danishes I like. “Alright, let's go.”

 

Once again, we snuck out into the open like the criminals we were. Not a word was spoken, and neither of us moved until we were sure the coast was cleared by whoever was in front at the time. We managed to make it about halfway back before I was in the lead again, checking for signs of life through the side door leading to another courtyard. With no one in sight, I held the door open for Connie to walk through and out to the other side of the yard. I sped up to grab this door as well, but the moment I opened it, I stopped cold.

 

“Shit, get inside,” I hiss, and rush Connie over to the door and inside.

 

“What is i-”

 

“Shh!” Connie can't feel it, but I can. Gramma always said I had a gift. I cracked open the door just in time to see a tired, old security officer hobble out into the courtyard. “Shit.”

 

There's only a slight relief at the sight of him heading away from our door, but it's short lived when he walks onto the main road towards the bookshop.

 

The alarms are the annoying plastic walls that go off when you've got too much change in your pocket, but those suckers were all unplugged once break started. Must have been something else in the shop.

 

“The shop’s a bust,” I mutter, keeping my eye out for any back up the guy might have. “Rental suit went in after us.”

 

“Shit,” Connie hisses. “We gotta get the others.”

 

I nod. “Theater’s probably safe since he only just came but I still say we scatter.”

 

Connie agreed immediately and we're even more careful on our way back. Just a few more doors to go. We make it out okay and manage to get the others out in a matter of minutes. Sina rides along with me on my shoulder as I head out to scope out rent-a-cop’s exit; hopefully within the time we agreed to come back after. Something still bothers me though.

 

Porky was sent to check out the shop almost immediately after Connie and I had left, and the only reason I knew he was there in the first place was because I had felt him staring. If it was really him though, he'd have come after the two of us no questions asked.

 

So.

 

Whose eyes did I feel on my back?

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Suspensful music*
> 
> Thank you, you beautiful people you, I love you ALL.
> 
> Let me know what you think, I love hearing from you guys :]
> 
> Also, just to be cute, imagine this is Sina coming to the rescue:
> 
> https://youtu.be/QjeNh2lLXDU


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are starting to get a little weird here. And cold. Very, very cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there's a part in here that's not Jean's POV because he's not there to witness it but it needs to be seen so, don't get confuzzeled X]
> 
> The GOOD NEWS: I got on a ROLL with my writing and got out, like, 3 super long chapters out.
> 
> The bad news: Imma make you wait :P
> 
>  
> 
> aslo: still on my phone ;-;

 

 

\---

**Chapter 17**

\---

 

Porky didn't last more than another ten minutes wandering around in the bookshop. After finishing her food, Sina hadn't stopped staring. She kept her eyes on him as he left, perched on a branch from a group of trees we were hiding out under not too far off, but I knew better than to go right back in. I held back a few more minutes trying to figure out my next move.

 

It’s nearly dark by the time I decide it’s safe enough to go back in. The group had decided to split up into individual parts to keep from suspicion, but that left us defenseless if a group were to find us. On the other hand, it made it easier for someone with experience to go out and find another source of food. Someone like me.

 

“Sina,” I mutter, and she meows in response. “Go tell Marco it’s safe. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

Sina meowed again, not liking my idea, and the fact that I know this and can have an actual, fully understandable conversation with my cat is only a little unnerving simply because the social stigma here says I should be an old woman with at least eight more cats. The fact that  _ that _ is what bothers me should scare me, but I’ve seen too much to care at this point. 

 

“Look, just do it,” I gripe. “I’ll be faster on my own.”

  
  


She grumbles as she jumps down from the tree and trots away, already sniffing out for the others on her way. I turned back and headed the other way, flipping my hood up and shoving my hands in my pockets. Time to get to work.

.

.

.

 

The officer waddled back to his car with little enthusiasm, wanting to get out of the cold and back to the office to a cup of coffee. Something was stirring in him though, and it urged him to stop and wait for the woman waiting in his passenger seat to speak to him before doing anything else. it almost felt like his duty.

 

“Did you find anything?” she asked.

 

“Not a thing, Miss,” he answered, his eyes slightly glassy. “It must have been a fluke.”

 

“I don’t believe that,” the woman muttered, then turned to him again. “Do you have a list of all who goes here?”

 

“No, ma’am,” he answered honestly. “Only records would have that. Unless you want to check online?”

 

She hummed an firmative, eyes scanning the empty parking lot as she planned. “I believe I will,” she said, finally. Then, she turned to look the security gaurd right in the eyes. “You will forget this night. Nothing happened, no one met you; it was just another routine ceck up. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said quietly, not even looking at her anymore. With that, the woman exited the car and walked away, digging into her pocket for a stone. By the time she had dissappeared into a whirlwind of color, the man blinked back a yawn and shook his head. “Quiet night, he muttered, then turned on his car and drove away. For whatever reason, he could really go for a cup of coffee back at the office.

.

.

.

 

It’s been hours since the sun had set and these plastic bags are digging into my wrists like no tomorrow. I made my way back to the theater as quietly as I could but the rustling of these plastic mother fuckers could warn a deaf  lion of my approach a mile away. I’m not surprised when I find the common room empty because of it.

 

“Relax, it’s just me,” I sigh, dropping those noisy ass bags in the middle of the floor. “Got some more supplies.” Sina meowed her welcome to me as she ran down the stairs and onto my shoulders, demanding her food as usual. “I know, I know, I got you.”

 

“Where were you, dude?” If Connie ever claims that I yelped when he popped out from behind the couch, he’s lying. “You’ve been gone for hours.”

 

“It’s a long walk to and from the store,” I tell him, dropping down to dig around in the bags along with him until I score some fancy cat food. Only the best for my Little Bit.

 

“You actually went shopping?” Sasha asked, coming out of hiding with Marco. “Did anybody see you?”

 

“I’m not that stupid,” I snip, a little annoyed that she even thought I would put myself in such a risky position. “Besides, I’m not going to spend money on something I can get for free.”

 

Connie scoffed as he held up a box full of family sized cereal from one of the many bags I hauled down here. “You’re kidding. There’s no way you got all this food for free.”

 

All I can do is stare blankly at him and offer a shrug. Marco can tell though. He knows I used my tricks. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything either.

 

“When did you guys get back?” I ask instead. 

 

“Long enough to finish warding up the place,” Marco answers, turning the conversation around with me, bless him. “We were about to send out the search party.”

 

“I can get by on my own,” I mutter dismissively.

 

“ _ Clearly _ ,” Connie says, holding up a full box of gum with a dent in the side. I just shrug again. What can I say? It was ‘ugly.’ Connie tossed the pack away and sat back on in his hunches with a sigh. “Now that the boy wonder is back; what’s the plan?”

 

“I don't know, man.” My eyes are killing me right now, so I spend most of my thoughts trying to rub them out through my retinas. “The way I see it, finding Annie seems to be our best bet, right now.”

 

“Yeah, but if we even try to go near her, we're dead,” Sasha said, already ripping open a bag of chips to pull out a handful. “Things would be so much easier if we had like, a lock of hair or something.”

 

“Spells aren't the answer to everything,” Marco sighed. “We'll figure something out with or without them.”

 

I close my tired eyes with a sigh and try to think. This Annie chick sounds like a real bitch. Scratch that, after all the shit she's put Marco through, and then myself within the last- holy shit, it's only been about a day… yeah, she's definitely a bitch.

 

The others are spouting off ideas and theories and I'm lost on about half of it because they're talking spells and I'm sitting here in the mortal realm discovering the wheel. Despite what Marco said, it looks like I'm going to have to be the one who thinks normal here. No matter how I look at it; Annie’s got to go. I can think of a few ways to do that if I were still back in ye olden days scrounging around with Hanji, but I don't think that would fly with these guys. Especially since some of the ways end up permanent. Aside from that though, I really don't want to go back.

 

Just thinking about it makes my body tense, and I have to remind myself to breathe and relax my shoulders. Marco sees me from the corner and looks to me, but I don't want his attention. So I look away.

 

My eyes are so trying to murder me right now, I just know it. Rubbing is only going to make it worse but I have to do something to get away from him. It doesn't help that no matter where I looked, I could not, for the life of me, find anything to make this suffering stop. My kingdom for some contact solution. 

 

“Are you okay, dude?”

 

“Hmm?” I looked up to see all three of the Potter Gang members looking at me with concern, but my damn eyes betrayed me with yet another twinge of dryness that sent me right back to rubbing. “Yeah, I'm fine,” I mutter. “Contacts.”

 

Sasha frowned and tilted her head. “When was the last time you took those out?”

 

I blinked, and not because of the dryness. “Uhm… What day is it?”

 

Sasha’s eyes grew to an adorable size. “Oh, honey,  _ no _ .” She immediately stood up to rummage through her purse. “I'm pretty sure I can whip something up for you, just gimme a minute.”

 

“Nah, I'm fine,” I sigh again, blinking to keep my hands away as I stand up to leave. “Really, it's not a big deal. I can probably find my glasses in my office.”

 

Marco stood as well. “I'll come with-”

 

“No.” Marco stopped at my short answer, and even I'm a little taken aback. “Uh, you don't… have to do that.”

 

Connie frowned and huffed out a sigh. “It's not safe to go alone; come on, dude.”

 

Before I can protest any further, he's already heading out long before me. Which leaves me alone with Marco and Sasha watching me curiously. Fuck. Time for a quick, and tactical retreat. 

 

I catch up with Connie just in time for him to check the door, then silently follow along behind him towards the next building. We're quiet, and I can tell from the wrinkle in his brow that he’s got something to say about the way I acted back there, but I don't think that even I have an answer for him.

 

“I don't know, man,” I tell him truthfully. “I really don't.” 

 

He grunted, but the wrinkle stayed. “Just as long as it doesn't screw things up in the long run.”

 

Connie’s right, I know he is, but I just can't seem to feel like I used to with Marco. Things are still weird between us since he woke me up earlier. Thing One and Two are good as a buffer when I'm around him, but one on one alone with Marco just leaves things a little… off. I'm man enough to admit that I can't handle being alone with him right now. I just can't figure out why.

 

It's not much longer before we make it to my building and by that point I've taken the lead. I have my own key for the door this time, and hurry Connie in behind me. It’s freezing in here. 

 

The both of us don't bother saying anything probably out of habit or the strange weight the silence has over this room, but that doesn't stop us from sharing a glance at the temperature, and I pause long enough to button up the neck to my coat. With that out of the way, Connie waits by the door as lookout while I look for my booty. My glasses should be hiding in the desk somewhere hidden behind a hole puncher or something but no matter how far I dig around in my drawers, I can't find them.

 

“Damn it,” I mutter, and it grabs Connie’s attention.

 

“Jam your finger?”

 

“What? No,” I shake my head and get back to work on the next drawer. “Stupid things like to move on me.”

 

Connie took one last look out the window of my office door before deciding to help me look. “They've got to be around here somewhere, right?”

 

I hum ascentment as I pull out a third drawer. “To be honest, I lose these things just about every week. I just found them again not too long ago behind a bookshelf.”

 

Connie wrinkled his nose but kept looking through a file cabinet. “That's weird.”

 

“You're telling me,” I scoff. “Sometimes I really do wonder if they walk off.”

 

He shrugged. “Eh, I've seen worse.”

 

My eyes decide at that moment to go ahead and say “screw you, asshole” when, out of fucking nowhere, they started going crazy dry, and I had to stop looking in favor of rubbing them again. “Fuck,” I mutter, and move on to my closet. “I need to dust in here; stupid maintenance can't do- SHIT!”

 

I think I would have jumped back a good thirty feet if the wall weren't in the way, but the sight of Mikasa randomly standing in my closet takes priority over the new bump on my skull. “Jesus, Mikasa, what the fuck?!”

 

Connie had already slammed the file cabinet shut and darted around the corner to my rescue, but stopped short at my outburst. “Jean?”

 

“Seriously, what the fuck?” I completely ignore him in favor of glaring her down. She looks upset, just barely to any other person and her stupid, stoic nature, but I can tell. “Mick, it's freezing in here, how long have you been there?”

 

My coat is unzipped and off my shoulders in seconds, but Mikasa holds up her hand to deny it, offering my missing glasses in the process. “Jean-”

 

“Jean-”

 

“Hold up a sec,” I shush Connie and shove my coat to Mikasa. 

 

“Jean please-”

 

“Jean-”

 

“Do you have any idea how annoying it is to interrupt?” I snip, turning on Connie, but he stops me with a hand to my shoulder.

 

“Jean!” His eyes are big, and he slows to watch me carefully as he asks: “Who are you talking to?”

 

A scoff rolls off my lips and I'm about to let him have it when it hits me. My eyes widen, and suddenly everything is quiet as I slowly turn my head to look at Mikasa. She stands there, still holding my glasses but I can finally feel just how cold this area of the room is.

 

“Jean,” she tries again. “There's something I need to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! More cliffs!
> 
> So I'm going on vacation for the next week and don't know when I'll be able to write again BUT, I really need some down time from work and writing makes me feel better so, here's hoping. At the same time though, I miss my people and want to hang out with them X]
> 
> If I can get out a few more chapters i may post again but, once again, I only have my phone soooo TwT


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More questions to answers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still un-betad, still on my phone. Eh. Whatever. Too tired to care, Imma nap once this is posted XD

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 18**

**\---**

 

“Un-fucking-believable.”

 

“It was for-”

 

“So help me, if you say ‘my own good,’ I will find a way to send you back to the grave again.”

 

Connie is watching me make a fool of myself in a one-sided conversation as I try to completely ignore and/or hopefully outrun my  _ apparent _ friend who spent the better part of three years failing to mention that she happens to be a ghost. I think I have a slightly valid reason to be a little annoyed. I slammed through the main doors to the theater, not even bothering to stay quiet.

 

“Three years,” I gripe. “Three fucking years, and you didn't think to-”

 

“How am I supposed to tell you?” Mikasa finally snapped. “You lived your life just fine without needing to know any unnecessary information; there was no reason to drag you in until now.”

 

“When I fell in with no preparation whatsoever?” I snip right back. “Sure did me a lot of good staying in the dark, didn't it,  _ Mick?” _

 

We're at a standstill here. Neither of us are willing to budge, and judging by how cold the room has gotten in a matter of seconds, I can tell she's just as upset as I am.

 

“It was a mutual decision,” she muttered. “You deserved to have a normal life. None of us wanted to take that away from you.”

 

My glare hardens enough to melt through her frost. “Who.”

 

She stands still, shoulders squared, but there's that tick in her eye. “They'll be here soon.”

 

“And in the meantime?” I bite, quiet but deadly. I'm done with all the bullshit.

 

“In the meantime,” she says right back, just as quiet and level as ever. “I came to warn you.”

 

Seconds. Minutes. Maybe longer, but Mikasa and I stare each other down. Once again, I'm strung up tighter than a drum and left out in the dark. What a great bunch of friends I have. Finally, I heave out a long, slow sigh, and turn my attention to Connie, who had been watching the whole encounter closely.

 

“Let's go,” I mutter. “We'll be having company.”

 

I'm so tired of being angry.

 

The trek through the auditorium is just as cold as ever, but with the animosity between Mikasa and myself, it only serves to make it feel colder. By the time we make it up on stage and head towards the back, Connie finally gives in to zip up his coat a little more. Sasha and Marco are sitting on the couch together giving Sina all the love and pets that she adores until her ears twitch to me and the others on the stairs, and it's then that the rest of the party perk up.

 

“What's this?”

 

“Who is  _ she _ ?”

 

“Guys, Mikasa,” I mutter, not even bothering to look dignified as I plop my exhausted ass onto my bed. “Mikasa, the guys.”

 

Sina takes a moment to stretch on her long legs before she prowls over to curve past my little ghost friend and out of the room. If I know her for anything, she’s probably feeling the same amount of annoyance from all of this that I do. Lucky bitch get’s to run away from it though.

 

“That still doesn't answer any questions,” Sasha said. She stood up to straighten herself, eyes never leaving Mikasa. “Who is she and what is she doing here?”

 

“Apparently, she's one of my body guards,” I fill in, dropping an arm over my eyes. “Eren and Armin weren't enough, it seems.”

 

“They really weren't,” Mikasa supplied unhelpfully. “They could only protect you while they were with you. I could follow where they couldn't.”

 

I shot up from the bed to glare at her. “You better be talking about the gym,” I hiss, trying not to look so scandalized. “You know what? No; you better be talking about my office, or the library, or any other place we went to have lessons! How long have you been stalking me- and where?!”

 

Mikasa closed her eyes and held up a hand, trying to hold in her patience with a breath. “This isn't what I came here to talk about with you.”

 

“No we're talking about this,” I say. “You can't just-”

 

“Okay, pause.” Marco stood up with his hands held in surrender, looking to me with eyes that pleaded with me to listen. “It’s getting a little too high strung in here, and I don't have my coat on.” As if to prove his point, fog left his lips as he spoke, and Connie rubbed his arms over a shivering Sasha to try and warm her. “Why don't the two of you work this out later, and you,” he stopped long enough to look at Mikasa. “Explain why you're here.”

 

It took a moment, but after that, I could start to feel a dramatic rise in temperature. I looked to Mikasa, who was studying Marco with a look that I can't quite place, but it seemed to calm her down enough to gain control of the thermostat at least.

 

“I'm sorry,” she said. “I did not mean for this to happen.”

 

“It's fine,” Marco said softly. “Happens to everybody.” 

 

I scoffed. No it does not. Gravity takes me down gracelessly back to my bed as I finally give the last of my shits. I'm all out now, nothing left to give. I really don't care anymore.

 

Before I can even muster up the energy to give my last fuck as well, I can hear the click and swing of a door opening, and I'm not alone in this. I sat up just as quick as before, and have a mild sense of panic as two hooded figures come down the stairs. That is, until Eren lifts his hood.

 

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Don't do that-” I'm stopped short as I see Armin pull off his own hood, and shoot up from the bed at the sight of a bandage on his face and forehead. “Shit, what happened?”

 

“I'm fine,” Armin mutters, but doesn't meet my eye. “It's Annie’s latest gift.”

 

Eren huffed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the far wall. “She found him at Target. Nearly took him out.”

 

“What?” I whirled around to look at Armin but he still won't meet my gaze. “How did she find you?”

 

“I think it was another location spell,” Armin sighed. “Specifically, using locations against us.”

 

“What are you saying?” Sasha hissed, fists curled at her sides. “Why should we believe you?”

 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” I said exaggeratedly. “Can you can the whole ‘conspiracy bitch’ deal for a second? You might even realize that Armin's not the asshole you think he is.”

 

“No, it's fine.” I'm about two seconds away from blowing up on someone again but Armin just passes by. “I think she's placed a thief curse on the people who fought her last.” 

 

“Okay, hold up.” I held a hand up for effect. “Help a muggle out, here; what is a thief curse and how does it work?”

 

Armin’s eyes flickered to me, but just as quickly, he looked away. To the floor in fact. I tried to blink away the feeling I got from that but it seemed Marco saw it, and stepped in to explain. 

 

“It's a low level spell that can be used over long distances ,” he said. “Basically, if any of us go into a store or come out with something, we're marked as thieves, alerted to the authorities and allow the spell caster to see where we are.”

 

Armin tucked some stray hairs behind his ear. “The store held me for credit card theft on a card that I've had for years, and it gave her enough time to find and come after me. That paired with the fact that she had a handful of people to go after instead of just one, makes me think that she needed a broader spell with less pull. A thief curse seemed to be a logical explanation for her; especially if she needed to conserve her energy.”

 

“No way,” Sasha spit. “Jean went out and got stuff for us  _ twice _ and he hasn't been caught yet.”

 

“No, it makes sense.” Connie frowned to the ground. “That’s why the security guard knew we were there, and he only showed up after we left the shop. All of the alarms were off as far as I saw, so there was no way he could have found us without something else helping him.” 

 

Mikasa sighed silently through her nose and crossed her arms, looking to me and Connie. “I came to warn you as soon as I heard from Armin,” she said. “But by the time I got there, the guard was already coming.”

 

So that's why that weight felt familiar. Well, that's one mystery solved.

 

Sasha scowled even further, completely unconvinced. “Then what about the second time? There's no way you just happened upon all this” 

 

I scrunched my nose and looked away, scratching the back of my neck. “Actually, I did.”

 

She threw her arm out to the stash we had created from my earlier rendezvous. “You expect me to believe that? Seriously? Where did you get all this food?”

 

“Not from  _ inside _ of a store.” Everyone save for Connie turned to look at Mikasa.

 

“... What?”

 

I shut my eyes. I can't watch. 

 

Slowly, one by one, they all get it, and turn to look at me. I can feel the weight of their eyes on me, and it's suffocating.

 

You’d think that with all the hype Americans go on about for ending world hunger, they’d stop throwing edible food in the dumpsters because they can't get past an ugly tomato. Connie and Sasha didn’t need to know that though. I didn’t know if they would eat it if they did. 

 

“It's still sealed.”

 

I opened my eyes to find a very unexpected ally backing me up. Eren puffs some of his hair out of his eyes but leans back against the wall more comfortably all the same. 

 

“Beggars can't be choosers, and if you're given the chance to have a lot of something for nothing, you don't pass it up.” Eren turned his bright green eyes straight to Sasha. “You won't survive being picky.”

 

“I know that,” Sasha hissed. “I don't need a lesson in survival from  _ you _ .”

 

“Alright, look.” Marco stepped up to put a calming hand over her shoulder. “They're not a threat. They couldn't have gotten past the wards if they meant us any harm, otherwise.” He turned to look at the unwelcome trio. “You came in peace to warn us. Now that you have, what do you suggest?”

 

“For starters, you're going to have to lie low,” Eren grumbled. “And I mean lower than before. Like, don't come out. Ever.”

 

“So what; you're going to keep us cooped up in here while you go out and find a way to stop Annie?” Connie asked, incredulous. Eren merely shrugged.

 

“Basically, yeah. I mean you're welcome to one of the safe houses but I doubt you'll want-”

 

“We're staying here.”

 

“Aaand we're back to what I was saying before.” Eren rolled his eyes to the ceiling, seeming to ask for the strength to deal with the stubborn woman that is Sasha from the tiles above. “We can look around for Annie while you guys stay hidden.”

 

“But isn’t Armin just as much a target as us?” I asked. “If you and Mikasa are the only ones looking, then we're never going to get out of here before break is over.”

 

“Who said it was just us?”

 

My eyes could probably burn holes through that stinking sausage from how hard I’m glaring at him. He scowls right back, still leaned up against the wall again and looks about to say something before Mikasa perks up at something in the distance that none of us are able to notice.

 

“They're here,” she mutters, then crosses her arms and looks to me. “Try not to freak out.”

 

“That puts so much faith in me right now, let me tell you,” I sass.

 

“She's right, Jean,” Armin said quietly. “You wanted to know who our boss was. Well, you're about to find out.”

 

Footsteps follow after the swing and click of that same door, and the room seems to still as someone descends the stairs to the common room. Slowly, step after step, tightly laced boots are seen, then baggy khakis, and a loose fitting shirt to a scruffy looking body and messy ponytail finally stop at the bottom of the stairs, and Hanji puts their hands on their hips, looking directly at me.

 

“Hiya, Renny boy.”

 

.

.

.

 

I freaked out. I freely admit it. Now I'm just numb. I feel like I've spent a good week being on edge, lied to, scared for my life or all of the above all at once. Hard to believe it's only been a few days. Now I'm just too tired to deal with anything anymore.

 

No more lies, no more hidden identities, no more witches or monsters trying to kill me… I just want to lie here and forget everything for a while. With my busy brain, though, that's easier said than done. Sina’s purs rumble over my chest as I pet her, and it helps to cool me down while I lay staring up at the ceiling in silent wonder, and ponder just how puny my existence is in the world. I'm so tired of being angry.

 

Hanji and the others had left a while ago, promising to return periodically with updates and supplies for things we can't get on our own. That was, of course, after they had endured my wrath and explained a few things.

 

Turns out, once they had caught my scent again, Hanji didn't want to risk losing me to another accident, so they did the only thing they could do and watched from afar. They never wanted me to know, and even played dumb on where I lived just to make me feel better. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense, but the thought of Hanji sneaking around to make sure I'm protected just doesn't sit well with me. There are still missing pieces to this puzzle, and I'm too tired to put them together right now.

 

The rest of my hocus pocus crew had settled down for bed a few hours later, and if I had a guess on what time it is now, I'd wager midnight has come and gone for a while. 

 

I sighed to the ceiling, still petting Sina in the dark. The only light and sound in the room came from the heater I had borrowed from Miss Smith’s office. Her bad blood flow was our salvation, and it doubled as a little night light for bathroom breaks. Or, as in this case, to see Marco roll over and look at me. 

 

Soft, brown eyes caught mine without much struggle, and we stayed this way for a moment or two, just enjoying the quiet. Sina rumbled on without a care in the world, and the sight of her put a smile on both our faces. Then Marco looked back to me and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. The silence was too comforting.

 

Honestly, I don't think either of us are ready for words just yet. The safety and comfort of this quiet held us a little too tightly, and neither of us were willing to let go. Marco felt it too, I'm sure of it, because I could see the inner turmoil in his eyes at even the thought of speaking out loud. After a moment, he found his resolve, and rubbed a fist over his heart.

 

I frowned and tilted my head, readjusting to keep Sina comfortable but still able to use my hands to sign back. ‘Why? You shouldn't be; you have nothing to feel sorry for.’

 

He smiled sadly and shook his head. ‘Yes I should. I know better than to corner you. Especially after all these bomb drops in your life. I know it's a lot for anyone to take in all at once. I shouldn't have pushed.’

 

I sighed and looked to the ceiling for a moment before I shook my head. ‘No.’ I signed. ‘You were trying to help. Don't beat yourself up over something stupid that I did.  _ Again _ .’

 

That got a chuckle out of him. ‘Still. Next time- if there even is a next time-’

 

I swallowed.

 

‘I'll be more careful. Give you more space.’ He stopped to look away, acting as though he didn't know if he wanted to say what he thought next. In the end, he looked back to me, and decided to say it anyway. ‘I don't like it when we fight.’

 

I blinked, and damned my heart for that stupid somersault it decided to do, then smiled just as softly. ‘I don't either.’

 

Marco nodded and took a breath to sigh, allowing us time to settle after something so tender. Then, after some minutes had passed, he looked to me again. ‘How are you holding up?’

 

A great big sigh was hefted out of me. How  _ am  _ I holding up? Things were explained pretty quickly, and afterwards it made sense. At least a little bit. Hanji wasn't a witch or a monster. Though, I wouldn't have been surprised if they were. There were many times I had questioned the authenticity of their homosapien status. Despite that, they were just a regular human who had stumbled into the world of fairy tales and never got back out. Much like myself.

 

I closed my eyes to think about it but the only thing that came to mind was the same answer I had been whispering all day. ‘Tired,’ I tell him. ‘Tired of being angry, of being lied to, tired of being told people know what's best for me.’ I stopped to look at him, sighing again. ‘Maybe I could have skipped all this exhaustion if I had just been told I was a witch in the first place. Benign or otherwise.’ I shook my head and looked back to the ceiling. ‘I don't know. It’s done and over with, I guess. Can't stay mad forever.’

 

Marco nodded, but didn't look like he put much effort into it as his eyes gazed away. He offered me a smile, but didn't say anything else for a while. We enjoyed the quiet once more, taking comfort in our lack of words.

 

It took us a little longer than it should have, but eventually, the two of us grew tired, and bid the other good night. At least now I can pretend to put my mind at ease. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaay, closure. We need more fluffs. ^_^
> 
> Thank you guys so much for hanging around, I love you all!
> 
>  
> 
> NAP TIME!
> 
>  
> 
> *edits*
> 
> So Flaria and I got to talking... oops. This is what happens when I talk with you guys at 3 In the morning XD 
> 
> http://smitty-mouse.tumblr.com/post/164312298331/so-my-beloved-flaria-planted-a-kitten-seed-in-my


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've finally come up with a plan to move forward... but it hardly feels worth it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys, gals and non-binary pals :]
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, I've been working a little more on Fresh Out of Water lately and haven't been focusing on Witch, so I'm trying to catch up on here. I'm almost done with Fresh though! (Idk how to feel about this D:) Well, at least I can knock that off my to-do list X]
> 
> I'm also excited because I have a new editor for my book, so I'll have more time to focus on that. If you're curious about it, the first edition can be found here:
> 
> https://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=L.+A.+SMITH+WRITER%27S+BLOCK
> 
> Don't be fooled by the typo; that really is the first book, and there's an audio version as well. I'm trying to publish book two now. I'll keep working on these stories as well, but it maaay be a little slower than before. Sorry :/
> 
> I've prattled on long enough- read! Enjoy!

  
  


 

 

\---

**Chapter 19**

\---

 

Five days. Five fucking days and I'm going nuts. The library could only sate me after the first couple days, but now I've pretty much cleared out the language section. With Mikasa’s help, my knowledge for Japanese is now the equivalent of a small, native child's, but fuck it all for my lack of entertainment. Also, the French books are horribly outdated. 

 

That was about all I could do with any success these past few days. The trio had this thing about keeping in shape and sparring that made my mouth water because Marco is starting to get his bulk back and he is built like a fucking rock. The sweat didn't help either.

 

I made a fool of myself getting swindled into a lesson with Connie once and kept getting distracted by a  _ very  _ shirtless Marco. I think I lasted about ten seconds that first round. Connie’s laughter just made it easier to get my head screwed on straight and elbow the fucker in the next round. You don't fight fair in the streets.

 

Marco ended up helping to patch up Connie’s nose and Sasha offered to take his place in fighting me after that. Now, I could blame it on lack of experience or how long it's been since I got in a proper fight, but there is no excuse for me to get my ass handed to me by a girl that stood a good half-a-foot shorter than me. Fucking Hell. Thankfully, Marco took over as my teacher after that.

 

When I wasn't getting beat up, I spent whatever time I could in the library. Like I said, I pretty much read through the language section in, like, a day, so that left me with just about nothing to do for a bit. That is, until Armin suggested that I check out the lore books. Just like Mikasa with her lessons, Armin took his time to teach me about the world of spooks whenever he came to visit. It was nice to sit back and relax with a book after a sparring session with Marco. Gave me time to realize just how out of the loop I am.

 

So again I say: five fuckin days of this, and I'm going koo-koo for coa-coa puffs. Which is why I find myself trapped flat on my back on the gym mat at three in the afternoon trying not to lose whatever dignity I have left by letting Marco feel the little half chub I'm sporting because of his killer thighs straddling my hips. Damn, son.

 

He panted heavily over me from all of the work we had done so far. His hands held me down by the shoulders and the little dangly bits of his bangs slipped down to tickle his cheekbones until he sat back on my hips to relax a little. I'm on high alert, and this is  _ not _ helping. Oh, wait, he’s chuckling. “One of these days you're not going to fall for that move.”

 

I just flop helplessly into a sigh, before I see my opening and take it. My hands snatch at Marco’s wrists and hold him there, allowing my legs to slip out from underneath him and over his shoulders. This move is specifically meant for women being pinned down, and technically she's supposed to kick him in the face so she has time to run away. I don't want to actually hurt that gorgeous face of his though, so I settled for a choke hold instead and slammed us both to the side with my thighs.

 

I can feel the shock in his body from my sudden movements and oh, victory is sweet. A snicker slips out of me at Marco’s wide eyes but it's cut short when I realize just how badly I messed up here. His face is  _ right there.  _ Luckily, he taps out before I can freak and I let go of him a little too quickly. His face is still red.

 

“You're getting better,” he rasps.

 

“I had a good teacher,” I say, but my back is turned to him because that little chub got a little too excited when Marco swallowed just a  _ little _ too hard right against my crotch and I'm focusing  _ really _ hard on my breathing.

 

Marco had gotten much better over the last few weeks. Compared to the first time I had properly met him a few months back, he looked like a completely new person. His build had filled up the poking ribs and loose pants to show off the muscles that he had hidden inside of him until now, and his skin was warmer, not only in color but in touch too. He had always been gentle, but with the time we shared together, he was more comfortable touching me now, and not so skittish. The haircut he claimed had always been a little on the long side, but it had grown some since we first met, and now more of it could fit in a ponytail. The best change of all, however, was his eyes.

 

Warm, deep brown pools of chocolate looked back at me every time we spoke, and they were only getting darker by the day. Just the thought of it put a smile on my lips, and I plopped back onto the mat to sigh at the ceiling now that Chubbs had gone away. I looked over to see him spacing out, and notice that his freckles have gotten darker too. My smile widens slightly. Things were going well.

 

“You seem to be in a good mood,” he says, still looking out over the gym.

 

“‘Course I am,” I tell him. “I just whipped your ass.” I think this calls for a nice, wet raspberry for victory, and I snicker again when some of my spit flicks into his knuckle

 

He frowns in disgust and leans over to wipe it on me, but I scoot away too quick for him. Of course, he has to chase after me to get my spit off of his knuckle, and we're both left scooting and crawling over the mat on the gym floor giggling like school girls trying to get after each other.

 

Marco finally gives up and hops up into all fours to tackle me and smears his now dry knuckles over my skin. “Take it,” he laughs. “Take it, it's yours!”

 

I flail through my laughter because this is just too much and decide to let loose my death moan before dropping my arms and legs dramatically to the floor. “I am slain; my years of defence conquered by a dried finger.”

 

The sound of Marco’s laughter makes my heart light, and my face hurts from smiling. “I hardly think street fighting is a line of defense,” he counters. “But, I guess I'll let you have this one.”

 

I lift my head from my corpse-like state to smile at him. “How generous of you. But you're so wrong; all of this is just a refresher course.”

 

Marco snorted, shaking his head. “You know what? I actually believe you.” He sighed through another laugh and hopped back onto his haunches. “I think that's enough for one day, don't you?”

 

My head drops back down and I hum in thought. “Well, I'm sweaty, sore and just had my ass handed to me by a finger.” I nodded once. “I'd say that's a good day.”

 

Another laugh and a shake of his head before he held out a hand to help me up. “Come on.”

 

We took our time going back to the common room, but when I heard Hanji’s voice, I admit, I bolted. Marco seemed to get it as well and followed close behind. Hanji and Eren turned from Connie and Sasha to the sound of my footsteps rushing down the stairs and for once, I was glad to see that angry sausage.

 

“Any news?” I asked, breathless from the sprint. Behind me, Marco made it down the stairs as well. 

 

Eren frowned and squinted his eyes. “Kinda. We think we have a lead.”

 

“Well, what is it? Whadda’ya got?” I'll take anything at this point. Hanji crossed their arms and stood back to let Eren begin, but he looked at them with a curious face. Knowing them, though, I'm not surprised at his confusion. They usually like talking over the room. I frown as well. “Z, what is it?”

 

They stay stood back, but sigh, knowing I've caught on to something. “We've been watching this one guy for awhile now. Annie ran into him a few months ago and even though it was an accident, we know better.”

 

“Annie talked to him again a couple days ago,” Eren continued on, turning back to Connie. “Before they met, he was normal. It was after she left that we noticed some magic hanging around him. We're thinking he knows how to find her, and if not, he's important enough for her to protect now.”

 

“As of right now, he's our only connection to Annie,” Hanji said, still off to the side. “But we can't get anywhere near him.”

 

Marco furrowed his brow. “Why’s that? Is it the spell?”

 

“Kinda,” Eren said, and plopped down on the couch. “Annie’s got a watch on him. The spell, as far as we can tell, is an anti-spell.”

 

Now I frown. “Meaning?”

 

“Whatever magic is used on him won't work, and even worse, it'll alert her,” Hanji answered. “So we can't use any mojo to get him to talk.”

 

Marco held a thumb to his lips, staring hard in thought to the ground. “So even if we went for it anyway and tried to reverse it, Annie would know, and she’d spook.”

 

“Or kill him to get rid of loose ends,” I finished.

 

Marco, Sasha and Connie all shared a dark expression at the very idea, frowning or shaking their heads but it was Sasha that spoke. “We can't put him in danger like that. It has to be discreet.”

 

“Exactly,” Hanji agreed. “He doesn't know anything about magic; it's best we keep it that way.”

 

There's a bitterness at the back of my throat and I have to scowl down at the floor at those words. As much as I hate to admit it, they’re right. This life isn’t easy, and if it were any other person who had gotten caught up in this, they may not have been able to handle it well. Not that I've been all sunshine and daisies so far, but at least I've managed to keep my head above water. I can feel the weight of a gaze on me and look up to find Marco catching my eyes. He says nothing as the conversation goes on, and for that I'm grateful, but he does give me a once over before he's satisfied with the idea that I won't combust over here.

 

“But how do we know this guy will lead us to ‘Annie’s lair’ if he doesn't know that she's a witch?” Sasha asked in a not so nice way.

 

“It's all we've got,” Eren snapped. “Besides, why else would she cover him unless she's got something to protect?”

 

“It could be a trap,” Marco offered.

 

“Which is why I haven't sent in a noobie agent,” Hanji muttered, not meeting anyone's eye. “This job is too important to waste on someone who doesn't know what they're doing.”

 

Suddenly, the room seems very cold.

 

“Well, what about his house?” Connie asked. “You said he's got a routine; can we break in and see what we can find there?”

 

“That wouldn't be a good idea either,” Hanji said just as quietly as before. Connie looked about to dispute, but Eren popped up with an answer before he could.

 

“The guy  _ does _ have a routine, which means he has people too,” Eren explained. “If he finds out that he's been broken into, he'll tell them, and some way or another, Annie will find out.”

 

Connie frowned to the floor. “Can we use magic on the house?”

 

“Only on the inside.” Hanji still won't look at anyone.

 

“What about Mikasa?” I ask. “She can get in unseen, right?”

 

“That's why we can't get inside with magic,” Hanji explained, finally looking to me, and the goosebumps spread. “It's protected too. Even against her.”

 

Sasha looked to the ceiling as she walked slowly over to the couch. “So what I'm hearing is that we need a non-magic, inside-human to be invited inside in a way that won't draw attention or give stories to his friends,” she said, sitting herself down on the arm of the couch farthest away from Eren. “What about a date?”

 

“No.” Eren shook his head, instantly turning her down. “Just another thing for him to talk about, and it would take too long. We’d have to get in and out without him feeling the need to share it with people. Something that one of us could manage within a day or two.”

 

“So a one night stand?” Connie supplied.

 

“Just about,” Eren agreed. “He's too private to talk about something so intimate. It's either that or a hooker.”

 

Hanji leaned against the far wall, looking down to their crossed arms. 

 

Sasha nodded, lost in thought. “I think I can manage that.”

 

Eren leveled her with a flat stare. “Hate to break it to you, princess, but you're not his type.”

 

Sasha cocked a brow and wrinkled her nose. “Excuse y-”

 

“Unless you're hiding something under that skirt of yours, he's not going to be interested in you, my dear,” Hanji cleared up, then turned to Connie. “We might be able to manage something with you though.”

 

In an instant, Connie went ramrod straight and threw his hands up to back away from the idea. “No way, I can barely manage women, let alone men. Marco’s the one you're looking for.”

 

My ears perk up at this, and I can feel a tingle of heat counteracting the goosebumps from this conversation at the idea of what I thought I heard, but once again, Hanji just had to rain on my parade. “He’s too high profile; we can't risk sending in someone Annie will easily recognize if she does end up being there.”

 

“Which rules out me and Armin too,” Eren sighed, dropping his head back over the couch. I can feel a darkness sinking heavier and heavier in my gut. Hanji’s eyes are on me, and I don't need to feel them to know that. “None of our guys are experienced enough either, and the ones that are are either burned, retired or dead.”

 

Hanji and I lock eyes, and the darkness turns sour.

 

“So, you're saying we're screwed.” Connie said.

 

My hands fist at my sides, and the snarl on my lips hasn't faded away. It probably never will.

 

“I'm saying, we need a better option.” Eren scowled to the floor. “Right now though, I'm not seeing any.”

 

Hanji’s eyes haven't left me, nor mine from theirs but it doesn't matter anymore. I turned to storm up the stairs and ignore the concerned, soft calling of my name from Marco as I leave the room, but I can still hear the sigh from Hanji’s lips.

 

“What's his problem?” Eren griped.

 

Quietly, almost silent, I can hear Hanji stand up from the wall. “He took the job.”

 

.

.

.

 

I don’t bother waiting for them to follow, I'm too pissed to even try, so I slam through the door to the wardrobe room on my own. Three of the four walls are covered floor to ceiling with cloths of every era and design, packed so tightly together that many of the hangers can't even squeeze into the rack. The last wall is split into sections for repair, cleaning and design. A washer and dryer sits next to some cabinets and a sink that covers about half of a wall on the inner section while the rest of it is covered with beheaded models holding various wigs. I don't need any of those.

 

Instead, I start ripping away at the different drawers from the island centered in the room for more hoarding and sewing purposes. Needles and thread and measuring tapes jumble around aimlessly as I yank the first one open and shove it back shut. That's not what I need either. It takes me a while, but I finally find what I'm looking for and pull out a pair of shoes that look to be about my size. An outfit always starts with the shoes.

 

They're there, I can feel them staring at me, but they don't say anything for a while and just watch from the doorway. It wasn't until I acknowledged them, turning to cast a quick glance at them leaning against the doorway with their arms crossed that Hanji finally spoke barely loud enough to be heard.

 

“You don't have to do this.”

 

“I don't have a choice!” I bark. “You  _ know  _ I don't have a choice! You counted on it!”

 

“I was hoping it wouldn't have to come to this; you have to know that.” Hanji stays quiet and doesn't rise to my attacks. “If there was any other way-”

 

“Well there's not, Z,” I snip. “There's not, so cut the shit and get me what I need.” I dropped my search for the right pants to turn and glare at them, pointing a rigid finger. “You know, you could have tried harder-”

 

“I tried  _ everything _ ,” Hanji hissed, finally cracking. “ _ Everything _ , Ren, and it all came back in blood. I can't do that again.”

 

“Neither can  _ I, _ ” I hissed right back. “I got out of this life; I got out just like you said you wanted- the  _ least _ you could do is have the stomach to tell me yourself and not have me put the pieces together!”

 

“I'm sorry!” Hanji whipped their eyes to me, and I can see just how much this hurts them. Good. “I know I should have but I couldn't. I can't even bare the thought of having to go through with it-”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

_ “Shut up, Ren!” _

 

For once, I do, because I'm not used to hearing them scream. Not like that. They stand before me, tired and strung out, completely at their wits end and staring at me with the most pain filled eyes I have ever seen. They could give Marco a run for his money.

 

“I'm stuck,” Hanji mutters. “I'm stuck unable to protect you again and it kills me. Please.  _ Please _ . You have to know that I don't want this any more than you do but this is the only way to keep you safe.” Their voice cracks at the end, and they take a moment to swallow and look away. “I can't see you get hurt again. Not by someone like her.” They turn their eyes back to me. “Especially not by her.” 

 

The tension in the air is tangible, and for a few minutes, all we can do is stare at the other, both of us too exhausted to fight anymore. I'm so tired of being angry.

 

“This is the last one,” I mutter, and Hanji nods. “Once we're clear, I'm gone for good.”

 

“Of course,” they agree. “We'll never bother you again.”

 

Another lump fills up my stomach. Again, we stand together in exhaustion, and it takes even longer for us to settle down. When we do, I sigh and turn back to the racks. It's quiet, and still too tense, but we've got a job to do, and Hanji knows it.

 

“He's got a routine,” they say again. “His people know him, so-”

 

“So the next time they see me, I need a new face.” I turn away from the racks and go back to the cabinets. I think I saw some temporary hair dye in there somewhere.

 

“What do you need?” Hanji asks, a little too quiet once again.

 

“Eyes,” I tell them, finding the brown dye. “Green if you can. This guy doesn't need anything tying me to witches. Maybe some piercings too; I won't know until I read his file.”

 

Hanji shook their head to the floor. “You won't. Guy’s a bleeding heart; it's how he met Annie. Bad boys aren't his style.”

 

This changes things. Time for new shoes. “Then get me his file.”

 

Without any argument, Hanji stepped away from the doorway. “I’ve got you, Ren.”  
  
  
      


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind: I haven't read the manga or seen the second season at this point (I know, it's shameful), so whatever I have in mind for these guys can be based only on what I've seen from the first season... oh, this is going to be wild XD
> 
> As usual, un-betad and on my phone.... I wonder if I can strap a rocket to my laptop to make it work...


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My job was to gather information. How I did that job was entirely up to my own choosing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> This chapter is rated M for mature. There is manipulation to get into bed and non-con drug use. I've marked where the drug use is for **trigger warnings** but if you feel uncomfortable at any time, please stop and I will let you know what happens next. Please take care of yourself.

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 20**

\---

 

Marlow Freudenberg. Now that's a mouthful. This guy stood close to six feet and had a nice body but damn, he really needed to fire his hair dresser. It was quiet at the bar for the most part; just the usual drunks sitting around in random booths, eating wings and enjoying the game and the drink. Marlow was different. He sat alone at the bar sipping a beer and loudly groaning at the game on the screen but I could tell that he wasn't really into it. Just another part of his routine. Time to shake things up a bit.

 

I waited long enough for him to take another gulp of his drink before I swooped in with the biggest, cheese grin I could muster. “Hiya, handsome,” I charmed. “Been here long?”

 

Marlow’s eyes widened when he realized I was in fact talking to him, but had started up again before he could pull away from the lip of his mug. “You know, I don't normally do this but when I saw you, I just couldn't back out this time.” I widened my smile and offered my hand. “It's nice to meet you.”

 

He sputtered a bit and couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted to say for a good thirty seconds before he slowly backed away from my hand. “Sorry, I don't…”

 

My smile dimmed, and I pulled my hand back a little. “I'm coming off a little strong, aren't I?” I quickly pulled my hand the rest of the way back to fiddle with my glasses. “Jack said you liked strong men so I figured-”

 

“I'm sorry,” Marlow interrupted. “Who?”

 

I blinked at him, keeping my eyes on Marlow while my peripheral stayed with a drunk guy wobbling around behind him to get up from the table.

 

“Jack,” I muttered, then widened my eyes. “You're not-” My hand slaps over my mouth and I stand up from the barstool. “Oh, God, you're not him, are you? Please tell me you're Jason.”

 

Marlow shook his head, and I widened my eyes even bigger.

 

“I'm so sorry! I thought you were- fuck, I knew this was a bad idea! I didn't even want to do this but they all thought-” I stopped short and turned a pair of horrified, green eyes to him. “Oh God, you're straight, aren't you?!” 

 

Before Marlow could say anything I stepped away from the bar, still keeping eyes with him as I slammed right into that wobbly drunkard and got doused with what was left of his beer. Perfect timing. The guy only laughed for a minute before he realized that his beer was gone, and was about to say something to me until his dinner caught up to him first and he ran off. I just stood there, dripping, miserable, and still standing in front of a quite shocked Marlow.

 

“Um,” I mutter with just the right amount of tremble to my voice. “I'm just- I think, yeah, I'm just, I'm gonna go.”

 

“Wait!” Marlow reached out and touched my shoulder to stop me, and gave me a small, bashful smile. “Lemme buy you a drink. You look like you could use one.”

 

Jackpot.

 

I gave him a watery smile and slowly nodded to my soaked shoes. Miss Smith is going to kill me if she ever finds out about this. Slowly I slunk back into my chair and grabbed a couple of napkins from the dispenser on the bar to start patting myself down. 

 

“So, um,” Marlow starts, and I paused long enough to glance at him before going back to dabbing at my shirt. “Who's Jack?”

 

A mix between a scoff, a laugh and a groan comes out of me, and I fold over onto my elbow to hold my face in my hand. “The worst wingman imaginable,” I tell him. “He said it was time to forget the ex and wanted to set me up on a blind date, but by the look of things,” I stop to look up and down the bar. “Seems I got stood up. Probably for the best if that whole introduction was any indication. Sorry you got dragged into this.”

 

Marlow chuckled, smiling a sad smile to the bar before lifting two fingers to the bartender. “Well, if anything, it's a good story to tell later.” He offered his hand to me, more genuine this time. “Marlow.”

 

“Jake.” The more ‘J’ names, the better. Easier  to forget me. I smiled as I took his hand but parted just as the bartender set down our drinks. There was a mirror along the wall behind the bar so I took a moment to inspect my hair for any dye or gel that might have melted off from the beer. Thankfully, that wasn't my first wobbly drunk, so my hair stayed perfectly untouched.

 

“You look fine, don't worry about it,” Marlow said, then chuckled again. “I'm pretty sure even with the beer stains you could get any guy you wanted in here.”

 

Damn right I could; I slicked my hair back for this. This was my job, and he was my target. I had marked this down as an art back in my prime and as twisted as my guts felt, I was still sure I could play Marlow like the fiddle he was. Instead of spouting that off, though, I put my chin in my hand and smiled with a I hum. “Not Jason, apparently.”

 

“Screw him,” Marlow joked.

 

“Well, I was hoping.” Marlow choked on his drink and coughed a little too harshly at that, and suddenly I was pulling out napkins for him. “Sorry, I'm not usually this forward.”

 

Another chuckle, and a side eye with a smile comes with his response. “Practice for the date?”

 

“Something like that,” I laughed. “Seriously though, I'm not hitting on you; I don't do that with straight guys, I'm just-”

 

“Who on God’s green earth wants to be straight?” Marlow muttered. “I learned a long time ago that it's better in the long run to be yourself than a copy of what other people want you to be. Loud and proud, my rainbow friend. Just act like you normally do, I'm sure your regular self can't be half as bad as what you pretend to be.”

 

My eyes widen again. So he does have a backbone. “Well color me impressed,” I say. “Going for the unknown; I like it.”

 

“It's getting to know someone that’s the fun part,” he replied, and this time my smile is genuine. 

 

“You know?” I said. “Suddenly, I'm thinking this night's not so bad.”

 

.

.

.

 

It had been a few hours, but I work quick. With him buying me drinks, it kept the thief curse off of my trail and drew him closer to me. By the time the third round had been ordered, Marlow and I were pretty much shoulder to shoulder. 

 

I whispered and chuckled in his ear, just barely touching my lips to his skin but I could see the goosebumps raising along the back of his neck. My hand was resting so high along his thigh that if I were to move any closer, there would probably be insertion, and my own leg pressed up beside it didn't make matters any worse. So when I asked about where he lived, he was more than ready to show me. Poor guy was putty in my hands from the start.

 

**

His buddy behind the bar ordered us a cab and promised to keep his car safe until the morning, but he was a little too distracted with my hand in his back pocket to really care at this point. When we made it to the backseat, I wasted no time in suckling little marks onto his neck. It made it easier to hide my hands as I swiped the drug capsule across his lower back, just beneath his shirt. I hate this job.

 

The walk up to his apartment was quick and when we were finally alone in the elevator, I pounced to give him much deeper kisses. Since Hanji’s drug works through skin contact only, I have to build this up, get his heart pumping, raise that adrenalin. 

 

**

We barely made it out of the elevator and to his door, but he managed to get his keys out and unlocked his home, only to have me jump back to his lips as soon as we stepped through the door. He guided me over to his room without thought, never parting much along the way until I could get his shirt off of his chest. 

 

Strong, firm hands roam over my body and  _ fuck _ , it has been a long time. Every inch of me is touched and pressed and squeezed and yes, oh, yes please, he's grinding,  _ fuck give me more _ . 

 

… Most of this is not acting anymore.

 

I had him pressed up tight against the bedroom door as soon as we got there, and was only a little surprised when he yanked me around to swap places. My giggle went on high in his ears as he kissed down my neck, and tugged at the buttons on my collar. A sigh of relief rushed out when he finally managed to shove my shirt over my shoulders, but he stopped, making me open my eyes.

 

Marlow stood panting in front of me, desire clear on his features but his eyes zeroed in on the scars raging up the right side of my neck from my shoulder and collarbone. I swallowed, and suddenly that giggle is gone. 

 

“Um,” I whisper, shrinking a little and looking away, not entirely acting now either as I tug my collar back over my neck. “My ex was… really mean…”

 

Silver eyes widened first in shocked, then in anger, and ended in sadness. I closed my own eyes and shirked away a little bit more, trying to figure out a way to save this situation to get his blood pumping, but it's been awhile since I had to do this, and certainly never with these awful reminders on my skin. Honestly, when I left for the bar this evening I had hoped to get him drunk enough to miss them by the time I had to get my shirt off, but as the night wore on; I had completely forgotten about them. My mind is racing for a save but Marlow, blessed little Marlow beats me to it.

 

Slowly, gently, watching my every move for any indication of discomfort, Marlow pulled my shirt away from my neck and traced my marred skin lightly with his fingers. He stared at them with that mixture of sadness and anger, and just as careful as before, he leaned in to dust my many, many scars with twice as many kisses.

 

A gasp huffed out of me as I realized just how tense I was, and after a quick check on me, Marlow continued with his gentle touches. My eyes shined to the ceiling and I had to bite my tongue to keep from slipping. He's genuine. I really hate this job.

 

Before I can lose my nerve and break down, I snatch at the back of his shirt and switch us around again, jiggling the handle open. His eyes lock on with mine as I guide him back to his bed, and we slow just enough to reach the mattress with his hands on my hips.

 

“I wanna make you feel good,” I whisper. 

 

And I do. I really do. Poor guy deserves something at least before I stab him in the back.

 

His eyes lock on with mine again as I widened mine, tilting my head down a little to heighten the effect. Little kisses make their way down his bare chest, but our eyes never leave.

 

“Please,” I whisper, and try something dangerous. “Daddy?”

 

Just as I thought, his pupils dilated so fast that I'm pretty sure he could qualify for a demon right now. I figured it fit his profile.

 

My smile widened and I got a little bolder as I kissed down his stomach, finally pushing him back onto the bed as I settled on my knees. Marlow huffed upon landing but was quick to lift his head to look at me. His eyes followed my hands while they worked his belt and button, all the while receiving sloppy kisses over his taut tummy. Yep, he definitely needs to fire his hair stylist with abs these good. Damn. 

 

The bulge in his pants is impressive and bounces oh, so prettily when I finally get his jeans down. The remaining tent in his boxers lifts higher when I breathe over it and suckle a little bit through the fabric, bringing out a moaned curse from the man above me. When I finish playing and pull his boxers down, his cock springs right up with another moan and hot damn it has been a  _ really  _ long time.

 

My lips suck small kisses up his shaft while my hands tickle the balls beneath it, drawing out more moans in long, low, drawn out pleasures that are sure to wake the neighbors. I finally reached the tip, and with one last look, I kept eyes with his as I swallowed Marlow whole. If the neighbors weren't awake before, they sure are now.

 

Fingers snatch at my hair and pull hard and  _ oh, yes, harder,  pleasepleaseplease- _ my eyes pop wide open and catch with Marlow’s when we both realize the downright whorish cry I let out, and he smirks all the darker with this revelation. His grip tightens in my hair and I can't help the sounds that come out next. It has been too damn long.

 

With one, hard shove, Marlow pushed me back in over his cock, and I was more than willing to obey. He shoved me down hard, controlled my movement and my breathing with expert precision, all the while shouting out filthy, little moans from the pleasures of my tongue. 

 

My own pants were digging into my crotch with painful tightness but I had to do this, I had to finish him, I had to make him feel good. With his hand still in my hair, my hands left my poor, neglected dick in favor of running my nails over his thighs and earning a beautiful scream along the way.

 

Slurps and smacks filled the room as he got more desperate, and started pumping into my mouth with just the right amount of force that stung a little doing down. My hands went to work covering what my mouth couldn't, massaging and holding and playing with him as my tongue got sloppier, making it easier to slip around his skin.

 

The pumping became static, and those beautiful cries more desperate as his fingers tightened in my hair and shoved me further over him. I could feel his stomach growing tighter along with his balls, and his cock was so wonderfully hard, already leaking into my mouth in preparation of what was to come. He was close, and we both knew it.

 

Marlow tried to yank me away, tried to give me fair warning but I wouldn't have it. I stubbornly stayed and gripped his thighs tighter, leaving marks on his skin with every intent to get every last drop he'd give me. His hand fell away to grab hold of the bed and the sheets instead, allowing him to toss his head back and thrust with abandon, screaming out as he gushed over in my mouth.

 

***

The scream tapered off into a whimper as he gasped for air, and finally, his eyes rolled back to drop him out cold in his bed. I caught as much as I could and quickly snatched out a condom from my pocket to spit it all out inside of it. It was sloppy, and some of it spilled out but I had done this enough to know how to keep from wasting too much. I only had a few seconds left before his dick could soften back up but I managed to get it on before it was too late.

 

Marlow lay blissfully unaware of the traitorous actions I had done against him, and if all goes well, he never will. I don't deserve it, but I need the evidence, so I settled him back into bed before I straddled his hips to jerk myself off and leave my own mess. I hate this job.

 

Placement of the body was easy but making it look believable took a little work. Don't want him freaking out to a doctor if he doesn't have to. I even spread a little lube around the place. I spent another minute or two ruffling up the sheets and his hair before deciding the scene was set enough, and left him to sleep off whatever concoction Hanji had created. Hopefully, he had good dreams.

 

***

 

With that all out of the way, I headed for the bathroom, shrugging my shirt back in place but leave it unbuttoned until I can earn covering up my shame. I needed mouthwash, stat. A quick search left me with a green bottle of Listerine and I was all set- until I caught sight of myself in the mirror. 

 

Once upon a time, I'm afraid to say I rather liked this job. Trial and error made it to where I knew exactly how to get them how I wanted them before time was up, and I reveled in that fact. I even took pride in it. I didn't bother covering up the hickies or the bed head or the scratches when I got back. It felt like a win, so I showed off. Seeing myself now, red lipped, hair a mess and eyes watering, I can't believe I ever felt that way. 

 

Some people would consider my work prostitution, plain and simple, but that's not it at all. Not in the slightest. I was young and stupid, but never used my skill for quick cash or cheap thrills, and I was never just in it for the sex; especially since it wasn't even supposed to be on the table in the first place. I was the one who had made an effort to make sure that it did.

 

In a sort of twisted way, I was one of Charlie's angels, and in the end, I had a job to do; all for the big shebang at the end of the game. My role was never to get into bed with the team’s target, but it was the easiest way to get my part done. I did what I did because it was the best way to lower people's guard and give me what I wanted. Marlow had what I wanted. He was my job. He was my target. That's all it was.

 

That still can't get the burning out of my gut though.

 

Quickly, I looked away from the mirror and focused on cleaning up. I set to work searching his pants for his phone while I thoroughly swished around that minty wash and headed back to the bathroom once I had found it, digging out a key Hanji had given me from my pocket. I had practiced this before but was a little leary in seeing it work again. Apparently, though, it worked on any lock, so when I closed the bathroom and opened it again, I was only mildly surprised to see that it had worked again, and I was properly standing in the doorway to the Theater Department’s backstage.

 

As the door opened, the others turned to see me still swishing my mouthwash with a foul expression. Hanji, being Hanji, lit up and greeted me with a smile.

 

“Hey, buddy!”

 

I spat my mouthwash at their feet, watching them as they stopped from coming any closer. Slowly, Hanji looked up from the mess I had made for them and back to my expression. It stayed flat, even as we caught gazes. Yes, I had agreed to this, yes I knew this was our best shot, but that didn't mean I couldn't pass my petulant attitude over onto Hanji in retaliation. I could feel everyone staring but Hanji’s eyes were the only eyes I would meet. I.  _ Really _ . Hate. This job.

 

Past Hanji, I tossed the cell phone to Connie and turned back to the room. “Do whatcha gotta do,” I muttered. My voice is raw and gravely, and they don't need to hear that, so I keep my mouth shut and start looking around the apartment.

 

Connie stayed behind in the theater to hack Marlow’s phone while Marco and Sasha slowly came in through the door with me. Hanji waited an extra second or two before they followed as well. They went for Marlow’s room while Sasha checked the hall closet and Marco headed for the living room. He wouldn’t even look at Marlow’s door. We searched and dug and read and watched whatever we could find but in the end, found nothing. Marlow’s computer got the same treatment as his phone and by the time Connie was done with that, the sun was coming up, and we had pretty much covered the place with a fine tooth comb.

 

“We need to get out of here,” I muttered. “He could wake up any second now.”

 

“We have looked just about everywhere,” Hanji sighed. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

 

My eyes are still cast to the floor because I can feel Marco’s eyes on me and it burns. I know he wants to say something, I know that, but I just can't. I'm not ready to hear what he has to say. This whole night was a waste of time, so don't. Just don't. I can't do this right now. Don't look at me.

 

“Let's go,” Marco whispered, but I can't even nod. Don't talk to me. “We should-”

 

A groaning and some rustling shifts out loudly from the bedroom, and before Marco can finish, I'm shoving him through the bathroom door with the others. The door swings shut and clicks loudly when I turn the lock, and it's that that alerts Marlow that I'm still here.

 

“Hello? Ja- uh… ” He sounds groggy, a little disoriented, and I don't really blame him. He’s had an eventful night. The key gets jammed back in my pocket and I open the bathroom door to the bathroom this time so I can grab a bottle of aspirin for him.

 

“Hey,” I whisper, keeping to the shadows as I sit down on his bedside and hold up the bottle for him. “I raided the place. Hope you don't mind.”

 

Marlow groaned and took the pills with the same eagerness he had had with me the night before. “Can't complain when you wake me up with breakfast in bed.”

 

A chuckle slips out, and I hate that it's genuine. I take a moment to twist my fingers through his hair and pick out some dried lube while he swallows down his ‘breakfast.’ There's a frown on his face that I've grown to understand as confusion, and that's my cue to fill in the blanks.

 

“So, this is awkward,” I start. “But… I don't remember coming over last night.”

 

“Oh, thank God, I thought it was just me,” he sighed. “Everything goes dark a little after we got here.” He turned an eye to me, a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his lips. “You seemed to enjoy yourself though.”

 

“The way my muscles feel right now, I feel inclined to believe you,” I chuckled, then looked away, still to the shadows. “Either way, it was good that I went out last night.” He hummed agreement, and my chest burns from the contentedness that followed with it. “Well… thanks? I guess? Sorry, I'm not used to this.”

 

Another chuckle came out, but it didn't last long thanks to his hangover. “What time is it?”

 

I turned to see the red analog numbers on his bedside clock reading out 5:45 in the morning and cursed, standing up with a gasp and rushing to find my shoes. “I'm late- I'm gonna be late, shit!”

 

Marlow shot up from bed but swayed a little bit from his head, and just then noticed the mess left from last night. “You okay?”

 

“I'm late for work,” I gasp, struggling to get my shoes on. “Sorry, I've gotta go!”

 

“Lemme drive you,” Marlow offered.

 

Nope. “Isn't it still at the bar?”

 

He cursed as well, and I stumbled to the door. 

 

“Thanks anyways, I can make it to the bus stop if I run.” My hand is on the knob and I'm already halfway down the hall before I can hear him struggling to get jeans on. I turn around as I step through the door to the elevator and fumble with my coat. “Have a good day or- thanks, er- it was nice to-” A groan of my own comes out as I bury my hand in my face then pop back up with a gasp as the door closes, and Marlow offers a wave and a smile just before he's gone for good. I sighed so heavily that I slumped back down against the wall and just stayed there for a minute. “Goodbye, Marlow Freudenberg.”

 

 

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... Yeah...  >.>


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When your security blanket leaves, you've got to find a way to cope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of self deprecation in it so beware the sads. It does have happy notes to it though because I love it when they laugh. I promise it won't be all doom and gloom. I like happy endings.

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 21**

\---

 

I had walked until the cold had sunken into my skin, then walked a good distance more after that. The plan was for me to get out and use the key a few blocks later to get back to the theater, but I couldn't take the easy way back. I didn't deserve it, and I couldn't face the others yet. So I walked. I walked until the cold, morning air turned brighter with the dawn, and my insides felt as numb as the outside did. Then, and only then, did I find a door for the key.

 

The others perked up when I marched through the door, but I paid them no mind- until I saw Armin sitting beside Connie to work on the computer. I froze at his glance, keeping eyes with him for a terrible two seconds before ducking my head and booking it to the dressing room. I need a shower.

 

I stopped long enough to dip into the wardrobe again and stripped down to my boxers, then almost violently threw the bundle of clothes I had into the washer. A hand towel lay on the island and lucky me, the men's dressing room was empty. I didn't bother losing my briefs when I started the water, I just stood there under the stream for a few minutes to let the hot water bring the feeling back to my toes. The body wash made a quick round over my skin but I knew this hair dye was going to take some effort, so I sat down under the shower head and started scrubbing to get it out. No matter how hard I scrub though, I know it won't get rid of the feeling in my gut.

 

A small mew alerts me that the door had been opened because Sina is waiting for me at the edge of the shower. She must have been waiting for me at the door, because I was sure that I had closed it. I turn back and lower my head to ignore her. I don't need this right now. Somebody else had other plans though, because the footsteps that followed her in stopped behind Sina, and I could feel the familiar weight of a gaze across my back.

 

“Don't,” I mutter, still scrubbing and keeping my head down. “I know what you're going to say, so just don't.”

 

It's quiet, but I can hear him hesitating.

 

“I was just…” Marco’s voice tapers off. I guess he must have seen me hunched over on the floor. “I got you a towel,” he says, getting softer. “Figured you didn't grab one.”

 

“Thanks,” I murmur. “Just leave it on the sink.”

 

There's a pause, and I know he can't stop looking at me.

 

“Are you alright, Jean?” Marco asks.

 

“I'm fine,” I bite. I don't need any acts. “Jut go.”

 

I reached out blindly for the shampoo bottle for another round, but of fucking course, I knocked the damn thing over and had to scramble to pick it back up. My body is tense and I refuse to look up, but nobody makes a sound. Save for Sina.  

 

A low, growled out meow rumbles out of her and I watch in horror as she stalks off, ignoring my pathetic whimper of her name as I reach out to her, and leaving me to the mercy of the man I now share the room with. I'm trapped. Abandoned by my only ally because even she knew I fucked up. 

 

My eyes trail up to Marco, silent and terrified, but he says nothing, and it only makes it worse. He stands silently in the doorway to the showers, blocking my only exit. With him watching me, I feel so small and vulnerable, and it's probably not even close to what I deserve. Slowly, I lower my head in shame, and resign to my fate. I knew I couldn't run away from this.

 

“Just do it,” I whisper, and it's so quiet that even I had to strain to hear. Marco must have though, because he walked up to turn off the spigot. I close my eyes and swallow. The chill of the air hits me full force now without the water on me, and I can already feel the goosebumps rising along my skin. Not all of it is from the cold, though. 

 

“You seem upset.” Is all he says. “What exactly is it that you want me to do?”

 

I shook my head, my eyes still closed and my head still down. “Just say it, don't drag it out.”

 

“Drag what out, Jean?” Marco asks softly, and my heart hurts.

 

“You're really going to make me say it,” I scoff, and whip my head up to scowl at him. If he's going to keep playing, then I can't hold back anymore. “That Marlow is a good guy; that he doesn't deserve this and never should have met me or gotten involved!” My arms snap out with my words to emphasize my point. “That I'm a manipulative bastard who lied and tricked and made him believe-” 

 

I can’t even say it, so I look back down to the ground because I can't face the reality of it with Marco’s eyes on me. It doesn't matter anyways. I'm tumbling with no one there to catch me while Marco watches me get my just desserts.

 

“He doesn't even know I played him,” I shake my head to the floor, eyes wide because I refuse to cry; not for this, not for me, I can't. “I had him in the palm of my hand and he never once complained because he thought I was someone worth listening to but I'm  _ not _ ! I'm not and he'll never know that but  _ I  _  will and  _ you _ will and  _ everybody _ else here will and there's nothing I can do to change that because the truth is,  _ I'm no better than Annie! _ ”

 

The crack of a towel as it unfurled harshly against the air next to my face made me jump an inch or two, and I screwed my eyes shut to prepare for the burn of it across my skin. Instead, it fell across my shoulders to wrap me in warmth, and when I opened my eyes, Marco was there to grab my chin and force eye contact. My eyes stayed wide at this, but I didn't dare move way because of the fire in his glare that made me shiver all over again.

 

“Why would you even think that?” Marco hissed, and I'm actually too scared to respond. “You really think you're some awful person because you slept with someone?”

 

“I didn't sleep with him.” It came out in a whisper before I could stop it, and in an instant, Marco’s rage blanked out before I continued on. “I just made him think I did… That's not any better, though.”

 

Marco blinked, caught off guard by my answer but recovered quickly. “So what? You looking for punishment, is that it? Something to ‘atone for your sins?’” I don't have an answer for him- I'm still stuck in his hand. 

 

“Fine. You got it.” He tightened his grip on my chin and pulled me closer to his sneer. “You are going to sit there and not make a peep unless spoken to and you will do as  you're told without question, is that clear?”

 

I'm so confused, what's going on here? I open my mouth to speak but Marco chides me quiet, and my mouth closes on it's own accord.

 

“Not a word,” he growls again, and this time I obey with a thick swallow. Once he’s satisfied that I'll stay quiet, he let's go of me and kneels down the rest of the way to sit cross legged on the floor across from me.

 

For a moment, he simply sits there with a grimace on his face and his eyes tightly shut. His hands fisted white over his knees and after a minute or two, he finally took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, he opened his eyes.

 

With such a sudden change in his pleasant demeanor, it's almost like whiplash when I see him grab the shampoo to squirt some in his hands, run them together and pull my head down to start lathering it through the strands. I blink to the floor, completely flabbergasted, but I won't dare say a word.

 

We stayed like this for a while, his deft fingers massaging into my skin with a gentleness that greatly contradicted the anger and harshness Marco had displayed in order to get to this point. He was careful with me, never scrubbing to hard or pulling my hair, and he always made sure the soap stayed out of my eyes. It was rather soothing to be honest, but that burning in my gut stayed put. This wasn't like any punishment I had ever had before. It wasn't until a few minutes in that I realized what was going on here.

 

The silence was killing me.

 

Marco had trapped me with my thoughts all over again, and instead of giving myself an outlet such as washing my hair, he was having me stew in it to mentally prepare for the onslaught of curses he would no doubt give me once I had had time to think about what I had done. Such a cruel thing indeed because I'd much rather have a bruise. Something to mark me for what I've done. It's after I've figured this out that he finally starts to talk again.

 

“You're right,” he mutters. “You are manipulative, you do lie and you're way too good at it; very much like Annie.” I close my eyes to receive whatever punishment he throws at me. “But you know what; the difference between you two is that you don't use those skills of yours against people because you know just how shitty it is.”

 

My eyes open, but he keeps my head low, still working the soap into my hair. 

 

“Whatever you do, you do for others. Annie’s not like that. She hurts and kills and destroys all to her own gain, and not once had she ever felt sorry for anything that she had ever done.”

 

His nails dig a little deeper with that statement, probably speaking more from experience and bitterness than trying to make me see the light, but still I keep my mouth closed. It's the only thing keeping the tears at bay.

 

“For as long as I've known you, you have not once done anything to intentionally hurt anybody- you've specifically gone out of your way to keep that from happening, so don't tell me that you're anything close to Annie because you're not.”

 

Marco stopped suddenly, and sighed out in an almost sad way before he gently tilted my head to capture my eyes, and his voice lowered into a softer tone. “She uses and manipulates people, and in a way, you do too, but you do it to help others. That doesn't make it completely okay, but it definitely makes you better than her.” His eyes grew even more tender, and it takes everything I've got in me not to lose my shit. “So don't tell me that you are that type of person because I can't find anything like that in you anywhere.”

 

The amount of pressure I use to bite my tongue scares me because my lip wants to tremble so badly, but I can't cry. I can't break. I can't give in, but when Marco looks at me like that, so warm and sad and loving because I know that I've fucked up- every part of me wants to give in and forgive myself. I want to believe that he's right, but I don't know if I can trust myself to do so. 

 

So instead, I bite my tongue, and try to convince myself that the shine in my eyes is from the soap. Marco takes my silence as my answer and gives up talking. Instead, he tilts my head back down, and reaches for the faucet to guide me back under the water for a rinse before starting all over again.

 

We both fell into silence again as I let my thoughts consume me. The sound of Marco’s breathing was slow and soothing, but I still couldn't stop thinking. Without the tick of a clock, I used my surroundings as a measure of time instead. The soap bubbles and water that fell from my hair was still brown, but I could tell that they were a few shades lighter as Marco worked through it. By the fourth rinse, Marco apparently couldn't stay silent anymore.

 

“So, that was your job, huh?” he asked. “Not exactly what I had expected.”

 

I had to swallow back some bile. “We weren't exactly public with our work.”

 

“Well, considering the work you did, I'm not surprised.” His fingers smoothed some soap away from my eyes. “I'm not judging, especially since you were a kid and needed the work-”

 

“Is that what you think?” My head shot up so I could look at him. “That they used me? That I didn't have a choice?”

 

Marco stuttered, eyes wide on me. I just shook my head.

 

“We worked to help people,” I explained. “They never put me up to anything that I didn't want to do.”

 

A moment passed as the words settled, and Marco finally looked away for a split second before giving in to his curiosity. “What exactly was it that you did?”

 

A heavy sigh fell from my lips and Marco cringed, most likely berating himself for asking. Before he had the chance to chastise himself, I lowered my head. It took a second for Marco to register the action before he took my invitation to let him continue lathering soap through my hair. 

 

Since he asked, I might as well tell him. It's not like I could say no to him anyways, and I'd rather he hear it from me than get any stories from Hanji or the old gang. God forbid I see any of them again.

 

Marco waited for me, still washing my hair for me as I tried to work it out. I thought about it for a while before I figured out an answer for him.

 

“You ever see that show  _ Leverage _ ?” I asked.

 

The fingers stopped for a second or two but resumed working the dye out once Marco realized he was getting his answer.. “Can't say I have.”

 

I quirked my lips. “It's kind of like a modern day Robin Hood. Only, with a gang.”

 

I waited through another rinse under the spigot before I started explaining again. “There was this team of ex-cons that would go after corporate jack-offs that would take advantage of the people who needed their help. And I'm talking, like, steal grandma’s life savings, or dump toxic waste that made little Timmy sick, sort of stuff.” 

 

I lowered my head again to let Marco get to work with another handful of shampoo. “Basically, evil-corp was big and bad enough to get away with it. The ex-cons didn't like that. So they decided to go to work.” 

 

A blob of soap was swiped away from my temple before it could reach my eye. “Each con had a set of skills that made them a pretty successful thief on their own, but when they worked together, they could take down the corporations that had hurt their clients and made it so that the corporation would never hurt anybody else again.”

 

“And… you and your team were like them?” Marco asked.

 

I grimaced. “Kind of.” 

 

Marco’s hands stilled as I shuffled in place, subconsciously trying to grow smaller. I hadn't even noticed until his hands came down to pet the hair at the nape of my neck, trying to soothe me. Another deep breath, and I was almost ready to go.

 

“We couldn't…” I swallowed. “The people we helped couldn't get help from the law. It was the law that let their bad-guys get away with it, so… so we did what we had to to get the guy.”

 

My hands gripped the towel tighter around my shoulders. “I was the one they sent in when we needed a man without a face. I was the one who could read people, or change myself without them ever knowing I was the same guy, and I was good at it.” I closed my eyes. 

 

“I was the one who tricked them into whatever scenario I wanted because it was easy, because it let me have some kind of fun, or power, or  _ something _ because I was just too damn good.” My hands were shaking now with how hard I held them. “Manipulating people, playing the game, getting it right and saving the day, I was too good and I was blind stupid because of it. I was young and I was stupid and I did what I did because I thought nobody could touch me.”

 

Silence reigned over the room again, and everything hurt from his gaze. My eyes stayed closed, hands still shaking and head still hung because I couldn't lift it to see the judgement in Marco’s eyes. 

 

“So,” Marco started quietly. “You were never… forced?”

 

My hands readjusted along the towel, but they were still too tight, and I had to swallow before I revealed what a kinky little shit I had been with a shake of my head. What I heard next was, to say the least, unexpected. My eyes shot wide as I looked up at the sound of a relieved sigh rolling off from Marco’s shoulders.

 

“That's good at least,” he said.

 

I blinked. “What?”

 

Marco shrugged, a little bashful. “Well, I had thought that since you were a kid without a home or a job that, maybe,  _ just maybe _ they had manipulated you into-” He stopped short with an embarrassed flush and looked away. “You know… for money.”

 

“What? No! I-” I can't believe this. “You… you're not upset?”

 

Marco frowned at me, but not in anger or disgust. More of confusion and disappointment because I had thought he would think so lowly of me- which, I did. “Why would I be upset? It was your job, your decision and your responsibility to your client. It kept you safe, right?” He stopped suddenly to look at me more seriously. “You  _ were _ safe, right?”

 

It took a second for the implementation to click, and suddenly I'm the one blushing. “Yeah, of course.”

 

“Alright, then you shouldn't worry.” Marco turned his big, brown eyes to me. “You did a job that you wanted, and in the end, it helped out good people, and put bad guys out of business for a while, didn't it? If you were as good as you say. So, what's the problem?”

 

  1. Cannot. Believe it. Error 404: Jean not found. Marco jumped back as I finally lost my brains to a laughing fit so hard and so sudden that if I had been twenty years younger, I probably would have wet my pants. It felt so good to laugh again.



 

Relief swept over me as the words I needed to hear bounced around in my ears. Excuses and theories and half-assed apologies to the what-if’s of my past and the last few hours were forgotten, and finally, the burning in my gut was because of the laughter I was belting out because I simply couldn't stop no matter how hard I tried.

 

After a few seconds of watching me flail like a walrus trying to breathe, Marco sputtered into a laugh as well and all was right with the world. We failed to get right back to sanity for a while as our laughter echoed off the tiles and spurred us on. It was just too good. Everything felt fine. I could breathe again. Until the next laugh, at least.

 

.

.

.

 

Marco worked out most of the dye from my hair for the next twenty or so minutes until it was decided that there wasn't much left to get out. There was a tinge of brown to my hair like that of cinnamon sugar, but it was nothing like the dark brown I had had before. Marco smiled at me and said he liked it nonetheless. It wasn't until he turned to leave that I realized: I didn't want him to go.

 

The butterflies in my stomach still fluttered around in my gut from such a simple, stupid compliment, but it wasn't just that. Even as he climbed the stairs, I missed him. I missed the feeling of his hands like warm water on my skin. I missed the way his voice sounded when we talked. I missed they way he looked at me… Fuck, I'm in way too deep. I can't do this.

 

Getting too close during a mission can be fatal, and Marco and I had lost too much as it stood. I couldn't let anything happen to him. I had to put some space between us. No matter how much it hurt.

 

Slowly, I dressed in the pajamas Marco had so thoughtfully brought to me and mentally prepared myself for the upcoming emotions that would come from this. It was for the best, I knew this, but it still wasn't fair. If life on the streets had taught me anything, it was always survival comes first. 

 

Getting too close muddled your thoughts, made you stupid, and then God forbid losing that someone because you got sloppy or careless; it didn't hurt you. It destroyed you. I'd seen it happen enough in my life. I refuse to see it happen to Marco.

 

.

.

.

 

When I got back to the common room, Sina was waiting for me on my bed, and instead of looking angry or put out, she offered a small mew to invite me over. I wanted to, I really did, but Armin was right there with her, petting her gently.

 

“Feeling better?” he asked quietly.

 

“Never been,” I mutter, but keep my distance. “Need something?”

 

Armin shook his head, keeping his eyes on his hand as it traveled down Sina’s back. “Just wanted to check on you.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Couldn't get to you before Marco did, so I waited here.”

 

“Lemme guess,” I scoff. “You don't think he trusts you either?”

 

Armin quirked his lips and looked to the side. “That's not it,” he said thoughtfully. “We just… don't get along.”

 

“I find that hard to believe,” I tell him. “You two are some of the most welcoming people I've ever met.”

 

He shrugged, looking back to Sina. “Just how it is.”

 

“Cut the shit,” I mutter. “You didn't come in here to check on me. The hit was a bust; You and I both know I shouldn't have gone out last night.”

 

A click of his tongue and then a sigh. “Actually I did want to check on you.” I scoff but don't say anything, so Armin continues on. “Besides, it wasn't a bust. We can monitor Marlow now; we'll find Annie one way or another.”

 

“So optimistic,” I growl, crossing my arms.

 

“I try to be,” he says passively. “It also helps that Connie is tracking down all of Marlow’s contacts from his phone and emails.” I stare at him. Hard. “He's quite the hacker, surprisingly. Of course we wouldn't have thought about that if it weren't for Sasha. She's pretty clever too. They make a handy pair.”

 

Armin sighed with a tick of his head, looking far off again. “They're good people. Even If they don't like me.” His eyes softened on a memory, and I know he's thinking again. “You know, I used to think Annie was a good person.”

 

My eyes widen, and I can't help how incredulous I sound. “You did?”

 

He gave a shrug. “She was my sister, of course I did. But then, it wasn't until I got a little older that I understood.” He turned his eyes to me, sad and quiet, but determined all the same. “She always did what she was told, always to the best of her abilities, and I admired that about her. It's just, that's all she ever did. Followed orders without any concerns about the repercussions because that was what she was told to do.” Armin looked down to another memory. “Annie’s not a good person; she's a good soldier. And if I had followed along with her, I'd have ended up just as vile and twisted as her. So, I cut her out of my life. Her and the rest of my family.”

 

There's a sourness building at the back of my throat and I have to swallow down the bile that came with it before I can speak. “Why are you telling me this?” I ask, a little on edge.

 

“Because I heard some of what you said down there.” His eyes are hard on me again, and I can't move. “I left my family because they were toxic to me and everyone around me. I left because I didn't want to be like them, or have that type of negativity in my life and it was the hardest thing I ever had to do.” He squared his shoulders and sat up a little straighter, staring me down. “After all that, do you really think that I would surround myself with people like that again?”

 

Blue eyes burn through my skin, and I can't say anything because of it. The blind faith he has in me is astonishing, and I love how much better it makes me feel. At least, for a second or two. I can't let him believe what's not true.

 

“But I'm not a good person,” I whispered. 

 

Armin softened his features again, and whispered as well. “Why do you keep saying that?” 

 

I can't answer that. He doesn't need to know. I can't bring myself to talk about her. It still hurts. 

 

Armin seems to understand that I don't have an answer for him, and gives up with a sigh, shaking his head to the ground. “One day,” he muttered. “One day I'm going to show you just what kind of person you really are.”

 

With that, he stood up and left without another word. I stood there for a while, just staring at the ground and trying hard not to over think things like usual when a mewl pulled me from my raging mind. 

 

Sina looks at me with sleep in her eyes and a contented purr rumbling deep in her chest, inviting me to finally go to bed after another long night. I look back at her with apprehension and keep my distance even without any negative signs coming off of her.

 

“You sure?” I ask, and I hate that it's so quiet. “... You left.”

 

Sina stares at me, eyes as steady as her pur as if to say ‘and?’

 

“I needed you,” I mutter. “I needed you and you left.”

 

That gets a meow, but the flick of her eyes up and down my body makes me think that she's proving how I'm still in one piece, how I had survived without her there. She closed her eyes slowly and yawned after that, and simply waited for me to come to bed.

 

My hands ball into fists at my side, but I'm not angry. I'm hurt. Until I realize that Sina left me on purpose. I've had fights with my cat before, every pet owner has, so I know when she's angry with me. At the time though, my head was so cluttered with negativity that her leaving me was instantly translated to her abandoning me, which, in a way, was partly true, but-

 

“You wanted me to talk to Marco, didn't you?”

 

Green eyes open and hold on with mine.

 

My eyes narrow at her. “Armin too?”

 

Her eyes flicker with acknowledgment. 

 

“You're a little shit, you know that?”

 

Another slow blink.

 

“Fine.” 

 

I huff out a sigh and go crawling into bed because really, no matter how badly we feel towards each other, I really need her affection more than anything when I'm upset. She knows this, and easily accepts being cradled in my arms.

 

Sina’s purs ease through my ears as she begins to groom me, making it much easier to fall asleep. Still though. I don't like having a smart cat. She's conniving enough as it is, I don't need her planning something behind my back when I need someone to hold me up. Whatever she's planning, I'll be okay with it, as long as I get to hold her again when I'm at my most pathetic form. Now seems like a really good time for that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't posted my next Fresh chapter and I'm sorry! but I'm running a little late and need to get ready for class in a bit so I'll try to post it up when I get home tonight somewhere around 2am.
> 
> Also, since things have been so busy I haven't had much of a chance to write and haven't even finished the next chapter for Witch. I just couldn't wait to post again and wanted some good to happen and decided to skip waiting for the final few paragraphs and just wing it. I'm sure I'll regret this later XD
> 
> Tell me what you think! I love hearing from you!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to think things through. What better way than with a couple of swords coming at your face?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter has lots of feels and bloodshed. If you become too uncomfortable to read, stop and come find me. I'll be happy to fill you in without any gory details.
> 
> I LIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!
> 
> So there's this one battle scene that I've been stuck on for WEEKS now and i just canNOT get past it, but I decided to go ahead and post this chapter anyways because it had been way too long since I posted anything and I'm sorry here, have a long chapter as payment T-T 
> 
> I'm hoping to post more once I get through this one fight but it's just not working for me; it's being annoying. Make it stop. :P
> 
> Still unbetad, still on my phone.

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 22**

\---

 

Something cold touched my nose, and for the life of me, I could not wriggle it off. There was no chance in Hell I’d move to wipe it away. I was too comfortable. So, I just let it sit there and melt on the end of my nose. Until Sina came by to lick it off.

 

I wrinkled my nose at the scratch of her tongue, but still, I kept my eyes shut. I’m too tired for this shit. A muffled hissing noise sang on as Sina licked up the last of the cold stuff from my face and I was content to just slip back to sleep, but the cold returned. This time, it was bigger. Fucking Hell.

 

My eyes flicked open to a finger slathering white over my face and stopped it cold. Apparently, my glare was enough to freeze it but one snicker later, I saw Marco bite back a grin then continued to rub the white stuff on my nose.

 

“Morning,” he said calmly, but it was obvious that he was trying not to laugh and still smearing fluff on me.

 

“The fuck,” I muttered. “Are you doing?”

 

Marco merely shrugged. “Breakfast.”

 

At this, Sina came back to lick whatever it was off of my face and I had to close my eyes to keep her scratchy tongue away from my pupils.

 

“You couldn’t have gotten me some?” I grumbled, still being used as a plate.

 

“Open.” Obediently, I opened my mouth and the hissing sound came back as Marco sprayed whipped cream fluff over my tongue. “Bon apetit.”

 

“Thank you,” I said and earned another snicker from Marco as the hissing sound echoed off of his own mouth. “So. Breakfast in bed. What’s the occasion?”

 

“Nothing,” Marco shrugged again. “Just thought we should put this can to good use before it melts away to nothingness.”

 

I nodded, now free of Sina over the bridge of my nose. “Good point. Have at it; make it a double.” With that, I opened my mouth up wide and Marco dutifully sprayed another whomping pile of fluff onto my tongue. When I closed my mouth to try and eat it, puffs of white spilled out over my lips and I couldn’t stop the muffled yelp of surprise. “Fluff overload!”

 

Sina was quick to try and lap up my leftovers but even I don’t condone pet kisses on the lips. I  _ know _ where that tongue has been. Instead, I sat up straight to steer clear of her attacks and licked up the cream myself. I turned my groggy ass to look at Marco for more, but he seemed distracted from the strange look on his face. The whipped cream can almost slipped from his fingers when I tried to ask him about it and muttered an apology before he offered the can to me instead, looking away as I had my fill. 

 

“What time is it?” I asked, mouth muffled.

 

“A little after three,” Marco answered. He still can't look at me for some reason. “Figured you wouldn't want to sleep through the good news.”

 

“Good news?” I perked up. Marco finally found the ability to look at me as I handed the can over. “Annie?”

 

Marco nodded through shoving a mouthful of whipped cream in between his cheeks, then made a point to close his mouth so he could talk via hums. His hands moved through the air as he ‘spoke’ to emphasize his point and landed himself a shove on the chest. Marco had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing and consequently spraying white fluff all over the area, and it was then that I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. 

 

“You're awake!” Came Armin’s chipper voice. He even smiled at me as he came down, but a flicker of discomfort fell over him once he noticed Marco sitting behind me, and from then on, his smile was forced. “I was just about to come get you.”

 

I shrugged. “Gotta be quicker than that, Minnie.”

 

Armin ducked his head with a more genuine smile this time at the nickname, but went right back to pretending once he looked back up. “I didn't mean to intrude-”

 

“No,” I shook my head, choosing to ignore the tension in the room. “Marco says there's good news?”

 

Blue eyes flicked to check on the man behind me before seeming satisfied with answering my open question. “We think we found Annie.” Armin settled down on the arm of the couch, far away from mine and Marco’s seats on the floor. “Connie and I were able to track down each of Marlow’s contacts through his phone and laptop. Most of them led back to places with legitimate addresses and people, but there was one place that took us to an old factory. When we looked closer, we found out that it was heavily warded.” His eyes lit up in triumph. “We're going to be keeping an eye on the place for a little bit before we do anything but, I think we've got her.”

 

I don't think I've grinned this much since before I ever met this Annie chick. My cheeks hurt. It seems to be infectious too because Armin’s smile is growing bigger and I don't even have to  _ look _ to see Marco doing the same thing. Looks like last night wasn't a waste after all. 

 

“Awesome,” I say, then A little louder. “That's  _ awesome _ . So when do we bag the bitch?”

 

Marco finally spoke up. “Well, like he said, Hanji and their team are going to stake the place out for a little while before we decide on anything.”

 

Armin nodded. “And in the meantime, we'll be here getting ready for whatever it is that they find.”

 

Makes sense. In the past, if memory serves correctly, it was always Hanji that got the most excited over a recon mission before the actual heist. Lately though, Hanji seems to be more intent on them now more than ever. For good reason, too.

 

“So what you're saying is: I need more lessons,” I say with a straight face. For about two seconds.

 

“It's up to you,” Marco said. “You know I'm up for sparring any time of the day.”

 

A sharp pang shot through my heart at the open invitation when I remembered my epiphany from the night before. I sucked in my lips and slapped a hand over Marco’s shoulder. “Thanks, Bobbo, but I think I can handle myself in a scuffle. What I really need to know right now is spooks and how to gank them.”

 

“Oh,” Marco’s smile does that same flicker that Armin’s did when he realizes that I'm asking to go hunker down in the library with the blonde coconut. That stinging through my heart just rose another ten notches. “No, you're right. Makes sense.” He stood up and wiped the imaginary dust off of his pants. “Take your time. Let me know if you change your mind.”

 

There was another wave of awkwardness as Marco passed by Armin, making them both close in on themselves as Marco left the room. I don't like it.

 

“I hate how much you two hate each other,” I gripe.

 

Armin closes his eyes into a sigh, his shoulders dropping with it. “We don't hate each other, Jean.”

 

“Bull shit,” I snip. “Neither of you can even stay in the same room together for longer than-”

 

“ _ Drop it, Jean _ .”

 

The anger and absolute pain burning through me from Armin’s glare shuts me right up. I had never seen him look so hateful like this. His scowl ruined whatever calm demeanor he usually sported, and the venom in his voice only further proved just how sinister this man could be when pushed too far. It looks like I'm the one who pushed. Again.

 

With a sigh, I stand up to leave for the library. If he doesn't want to talk about it,  _ fine _ . No skin off my back. Something about those two doesn't sit right with me, and Armin knows it. He knows I'm on to something, and if I wasn't sure before, that little outburst of his pretty much confirmed it. Still though. It's like poking a bear with a stick and hoping nothing happens. I'd much rather he come to me when he's ready. So, I admit defeat and head for the stairs. Clothes be damned, I earned a pajama day.

 

“You coming or what?” I asked him.

 

It took a second, but eventually, Armin followed. We stayed quiet for a while on our way through the school. We're both a little tender at the moment, but I know it bothers Armin more than me that the air is stale between us. I'm not at all surprised that he was the first to crack.

 

“I'm glad you're feeling better,” he said quietly.

 

“Yeah,” I mutter back. “Marco helped me out with some stuff.”

 

Armin nodded with a hum, eyes distant. “Figures. Marco has a very soothing presence.”

 

I snorted at this. “He's not the only one.”

 

For a split second, Armin seemed to miss a step at my implications. Then he went right back to that bashful smile of his. “Well, hopefully it can get back to that again soon.”

 

Wait a minute. 

 

“Huh?” I stopped to look at Armin, but he kept going. “What do you mean?”

 

Armin shrugged, feigning nonchalance but I knew better. His head was down, and he tucked his hair behind his ear. “I figured with everything that's happened lately-”

 

“That what, I'd feel better without you around?” I joked, but Armin kept walking. Hold the fucking phone. “ _ Armin _ .”

 

He had his hand on the door handle to the library when he finally stopped at the bite in my tone and turned to look at me, but his eyes were still down. Oh, Hell no. Before I could blow up and make that look permanent, I forced myself to take a breath, then looked up to Armin.

 

“Is that why you've been so distant lately?” I asked, and he cringed a little, obviously unhappy at being caught. I took another deep breath before stepping over to him.

 

Armin stayed steady as I approached but the look in his eyes… Just stab me now and get it over with. I'd prefer it at this point. I leaned down a little to get eye-level with him and put a hand on his shoulder before speaking again.

 

“That's not true,” I tell him. “That will  _ never _ be true.” Blue eyes study mine, and I can only hope he sees how genuine I am. “You're still my best friend, and I still care about you.” I shook my head, never leaving his eyes. “Nothing's ever going to change that.”

 

For a moment longer, Armin painfully studied my gaze. From this close, I could see it. The hurt, the fear, the thoughts that never gave the poor man’s mind a moment's rest. All of it flashed before me in one quick shine, but I still wasn't prepared for his come back.

 

“You can't promise that,” he said quietly. “For better or worse, change is inevitable. You can't stop it just because you want it to.” 

 

Then, without another word, Armin turned to open the door. I hate this. He looked and sounded so defeated that it just burns me up trying to describe it. Like he had to explain himself over and over again through years of disappointments. It's times like these when Marco would ask me if I were speaking from experience again.

 

Wait a minute. 

 

“Is that what happened to you and Marco?”

 

Armin stopped halfway through the door, and the silence cuts through us like we're nothing. He doesn't answer me when he starts walking again, but he doesn't have to. I have my answer, and I'm just as silent as Armin when I follow him through the door. 

.

.

.

 

Armin and I studied together in the library for the next day and a half. Eventually, we were able to relax again with so many books around us. Surrounded by all of these different legends and witty banter, it felt like another day at the lore club. I needed this, and I think Armin did too. 

 

It had been too long since the two of us could just relax and be ourselves again. I hate how far apart we've become, but what I hate even more is that it took me so long to figure it out. 

 

Before, when we would study in the library like this, Armin would keep his distance and stay professional. Since learning of Armin’s dastardly plots the day before, I gave that idea the big ol’ bird and broke into his bubble. Today I had plopped down practically on top of Armin to crack open a dullahan book and pushed his buttons until he started a nice, long, healthy debate over whether or not they had feathers. Being the petulant brat that I am, I was able to keep a straight face throughout the whole thing for a solid chunk of our session before Armin caught on, and we both ended up laughing it off. 

 

“Think about it, though,” I said, closing a book over my chest to talk with my hands. “They're magical fucking beings with powers that are difficult, if not  _ impossible _ to explain.” I turned an impish grin to Armin from his lap. “So what's stopping them from making it look like they have feathers on their arms. Just-” I spread my arms out like wings and crooked my fingers into claws. “ _ Fwoosh!  _ That would look pretty badass if you ask me.”

 

“You're hopeless,” Armin sighed, but smiled nonetheless as he played with my hair.

 

I had had my head in his lap for a while, and I could tell we needed to readjust for the sake of comfort, but it was so nice being able to talk so openly with my friend again that I didn't want to. Armin seemed to have the same sentiment, because I could feel him shifting beneath me trying to get some much needed blood flow to his legs. If he really wanted me off, he'd have told me. So I just shift right along with him. It's been too long since we could do this so comfortably- relatively speaking. We have a lot to catch up on.

 

Something still bothers me though, and Armin can see me thinking. He waits for me like the great guy he is, but I don't want to ruin this moment with my curiosity. Times like this, quiet and playful, completely at ease and content, they're so easy to come by with Armin. The same sort of vibe comes off of Marco whenever I'm with him as well, and the time I usually have with either of them is almost always welcome because of it. I just find it hard to believe that the two people I care most about used to care about each other as well, but don't anymore.

 

Armin is still waiting for me to speak and I know I won't be able to keep this to myself. Not only do I hate lying to him, but he could tell the moment I let some lame excuse fly. So I give in.

 

“You and Marco… were you close like this too?” I ask, and instantly his eyes flick away. Damn it.

 

Armin bites his lip and looks anywhere but me before he finally starts speaking. “Close to it,” he said quietly. “I don't think I could ever have something like this with anyone but you.”

 

I nod, but I can't stop. “If it was close to it then what happened? Something with Annie?”

 

His face pinched in on itself. “Yes, but, not-”

 

“Then what?” I interrupted. “How could you two go from besties to not being able to stand in the same room-”

 

“I don't want to talk about it.”

 

That shuts me up. Armin is almost always so open and willing. Closing up on this, and so quickly, too… it must have been pretty bad to get him this wound up over it. Rather than pushing further though, I sighed and lowered my voice, trying to sound less obtrusive to the topic that he clearly does not enjoy. “Any chance it could ever go back to the way it was?” 

 

“Probably not.” The answer is instant, and his eyes go flat from the memory. I don't like it.

 

“... Could you at least try?”

 

Blue eyes flash a quick anger at me before Armin closes them and takes a breath to calm down. “It's not just up to me. Besides, it could never be the same as it was.”

 

“It doesn't have to be.” I  lifted up to scoot further into his lap, drawing up close to rest my shoulders over his knees. “The way I see it, similar is good enough in my book. It may even end up being better.”

 

Armin’s lips tighten, and I know he's biting back a comment. I can't stand to see him so hindered by this, especially after such a nice afternoon together. Another sigh slipped past my lips, and I slip down again to try and catch his eyes.

 

“Do you even want to?” I  asked, softly.

 

He was quiet for a little bit as he thought on it. Then, he closed his eyes and lost himself to memories once again. My question went unanswered for several minutes until Armin opened his eyes again, a little glassy this time as he whispered. “More than anything.”

 

Armin still can't look at me, he's still hunched up in a ball, and his voice is still unfairly quiet, but he had the balls to answer at least. I smile at him, small and comforting. “It's a start.”

 

A weak chuckle passed through Armin and he closed his eyes again.“We've been at this for a while,” he muttered, his smile small but still there. “Think we should take a break?”

 

“Hmm,” I pretended to think. “Do I have to move?”

 

Armin chuckled a bit stronger this time. “Only to relieve my toes.” He wiggled his toes under my neck to emphasize his point and earned a yelp out of me because he fucking  _ tickled my neck with his toes _ and that's not something that happens every day. Then again, I should be used to oddities by this point. “C’mon, let's put some of these back. I think I've lost my shins at this point.”

 

I frowned up at him. “Killjoy.”

 

The both of us stood up nonetheless and began sticking books back on the shelves. I wasn't done talking though; I had weeks to make up for. 

 

“I still don't get why you couldn't be my TA,” I grumbled. “I mean, you  _ are _ fluent in Latin; technically, you'd be allowed. With your experience, it’d be a cinch to get you in.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Armin smiled a bit more with a chuckle. “Can't really tell the school that I'm fluent in Latin because my family is full of witches. I'd end up turning in my school books for a padded room instead, if I did.”

 

I stopped at that. “You know, this is why you're smarter than me. I didn't even think about that.”

 

Armin chuckled again, fuller and more lively than before. I need more of it.

 

“So, what do you have planned after this?” I asked.

 

Armin hummed, thinking while turning a book in his hand. “Probably get something to eat.”

 

“No,” I snorted. “I mean after the dust settles. This whole thing with Annie. What do you have planned next?” I turned a grin to him. “Back to being my best student?”

 

“Oh.” That gives him pause, and his fingertips linger over the edge of a book spine after carefully shelving it back up. “Well… I wouldn't really need to if everything works out…” His eyes worried over a thought. “I’m only in class to pass the time and be your protector if I'm going to be completely honest here. There's really no other need for school at this point. So, if it really all works out the way we want it to… I guess I'd like to go back to my shop.”

 

He had a shop, huh? That's new. The way he looks right now though, it's like he's afraid to hope for it. I prodded him when he didn't continue. 

 

“I, um, I used to run a botanical shop. Witches came from all over to use it; common-folk too. They loved my roses.” There's that bashful smile again, and for a moment, he got lost in a memory. Thankfully, a happy one this time. “It was pretty successful, and I loved taking care of my garden every day.”

 

And there's that bitterness again. Small in figure but enormous as it swam around in his eyes. I don't know if I want to ask but I know that I will. “What happened to it?”

 

Armin sighed to the floor, then brought his head back to the present to push a book in the shelf. It almost looked like he was glaring at his hand, like it had wronged him. “There was an accident. Mixed up my magic. Now anything I touch dies in a frost.”

 

The look in his eye is heartbreaking. I can't help but put my hand on his shoulder and squeeze. He looked at me, a little bit in pain from my hand but I only smiled at that. “Not everything,” I said, proving my point.

 

A small, sad smile graced his lips. “Not what I meant.” He turned back to putting his books away, consequently walking out of my grip. “This magic isn't my own. If we can catch her, then maybe I could get it back. As it stands though, Annie and I got switched. It took me a while to learn to control her magic, and I did eventually, obviously-” He turned his eyes to the floor. “But I still can't talk with my garden. Not anymore.”

 

“So wait a minute,” I turned to look at him, incredulous. “Are you telling me that Annie has your magic and you have hers?” He nodded. “And the only way to get it back is by switching with her again.” He nodded again. “Well that sucks. How did that happen?”

 

Armin huddled in on himself and tucked his hair behind his ear again.“There was… an accident.”

 

I nodded and turned back to my own books. With the repeated answer, it's obvious that he's struggling not to snap at me to shut up about this again. He's closing in on himself. This subject is getting a little too uncomfortable for him, it seems. So, I took a hint and moved on. “You'll have to let me see it when you get your garden back.”

 

And then he smiled.

 

Success.

 

We talked some more throughout our tidying up, and honestly, it was all about random stuff, but I really wouldn't have had it any other way. After the emotional roller coaster that was the night before, it felt pretty fucking good having my best friend back. I never realized just how empty my day felt without him in it until now.

 

Having Armin walking on eggshells around me for the last few weeks has been not only aggravating, but exhausting as well. Just the sight of him smiling again gives me a level of energy that I didn’t have before, and it’s jarring to think that I’m realizing this to be a fact. 

 

Beside me, Armin reads the serial codes along the sides of the books in order to put them back where they properly belong, actually utilizing that dewey decimal crap. Meanwhile, I’m over here shoving books in the general area that I think they belong in. That’s just the kind of guys we are though. I do things to get by while he does things right, every time. No matter what, Armin has always known what to do and how to do it, and made everything better just by being there. I’ve always trusted him for that much at least.

 

I closed my eyes and sighed silently to the bookshelf, leaning my forehead against the grain of the wood. Memories of every good time we’ve had together flood my vision and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. 

 

Armin isn’t just my friend, he’s my  _ best _ friend, and for good reason. He’s kind and caring and considerate- everything I’m not. I wasn’t lying when I said he was the perfect boyfriend material, and now with the whole scholarship idea tossed out the window, I don't have a conceivable reason as to why I wouldn't ask him out right here and now. I don't think he'd be okay with my excuse being that it's  _ me _ we're talking about, here.

 

Damn it all. I am one, lonely loser.

 

“Jean?”

 

I looked up to find Armin looking at me with concern, apparently having heard me sigh.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

I blinked at him. Of course he would notice me struggling. He always does. I chuckled to the bookshelf again, a dry, humorless notion and shook my head. I really am a mess if I’m thinking about my personal relationship with not only Marco, but Armin, too. What good am I if I can’t even follow my own rules? It hasn’t even been forty-eight hours!

 

Armin is still waiting for an answer. Of course he is, he’s patient. So, I smile at him. Because he’s so, fucking perfect. What am I going to do if I have to put space between us as well? I can’t. Not after promising not to go anywhere. Aside from that… I don’t want to. I need him in my life. It doesn’t feel right without him.

 

My smile softens again and I open my mouth to hand over some lame-ass answer when the door slams open.

 

“Hey, John-boy?”

 

I cringed at the terrible reference and turned around to spit at the bitch who used it. “That's not even my  _ name _ .”

 

“Close enough,” Sasha stuck her tongue between her teeth for a smile and pushed her fists to her hips before she stopped to address me again. “So settle a bet for me.”

 

“No.”

 

To the side of me, Armin sighed as he placed a book back on the shelf, but smiled nonetheless. 

 

Sasha completely ignored this. “C’mon, you can't give Connie the win that easily!”

 

“Don't know, don't care, fuck off.” I really don't have time for this.

 

She shrugged. “Alright. I guess I gave you more credit than you deserved. Connie was right about you being a wuss.”

 

Now hold up a second. “Excuse me?” But she's already walking away. “Hey! What did you say?”

 

Sasha stopped and turned to look at me innocently. “Oh, nothing. It's just that I bet Connie that you wouldn't be afraid to spar with me again, but he said you'd be too scared to do it so, whatevs.” 

 

Oh,  _ Hell no. _ I dropped the last of my books on top of the others already sitting on the shelf and turned around fully to face her. Armin is already rolling his eyes to the sky because we both know how much she's playing me right now, but I don't care. My glare could probably roast her alive if I had the ability to do so but Sasha continued to play innocent, and pouted to the floor in thought.

 

“Maybe I can convince him to take my gummy worms instead of the family-sized potato chips for payment.” She turned to walk away but somehow managed to dodge when I threw a book at her back. “Hey!”

 

“You can be a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” I gripe, already walking out. “If you wanted to spar, all you had to do was ask.”

 

“I  _ did _ ask,” Sasha sighed, hurrying up to walk alongside me. “You shot me down right away.”

 

“Because you're annoying,” I mumbled, but she didn't care. She got what she wanted, so she was content. Whatever. I'm irritated and need to vent. Sparring sounds pretty good right about now, and the idea of pounding on the cause of my frustrations sounds like a great stress reliever. Besides, I could use the fresh air, and Armin did say we needed a break. “C’mon, Armin.”

 

Behind me, I could hear another sigh as Armin put the last of his books up and followed us out. Sasha glared at me for inviting him but tough shit, chika, he's coming too. We made our way out to the gym in relative silence and when we finally arrived, Marco and Connie were arguing with Mikasa over something. 

 

“Wow,” I droned. “The whole gang’s here. Except for Sausage.” Armin, for some reason, flinched at that. Before I could say anything about it though, Connie’s eyes went wide and he shook his head.

 

“No way,” he said. “Dude, she's going to maul you.”

 

“Your faith in me is so touching,” I murmured. 

 

Marco just looked at me with wide, uneasy eyes. He's noticed my absence lately, and although he doesn't mention anything, I know it's been bothering him. His eyes give away everything. “Are you sure?” he asked. So soft. So worried.

 

I had to look away from what I had caused. “Let's just get this over with.”

 

With that said, Sasha bounced up to the center of the wrestling mats we had dragged out and stopped to close her eyes and drop her chin down to her chest. After a second or two, she began glowing green, and weapons materialized from it, as though they were coming from her skin itself. My eyes shot wide at the sight, and for several minutes, Sasha kept steady as more and more weapons popped out of thin air. Finally, after what felt like days, the glowing stopped and Sasha puffed out a hefty sigh in relief before straightening up to present her arsenal.

 

Swords, quarter staffs, crossbows, daggers- anything sharp or could cause any amount of damage laid before us in near neat little piles. I remember the group explaining to me how she specialized in weapons but I didn't think this was what they meant. Apparently, she  _ was  _ a weapon. Sasha looked so pleased with herself at the accomplishment of using so much power that her exhaustion was barely evident. “Take your pick.”

 

“Wait a minute.” I held my hand up. “You said we were  _ sparring _ . Not trying to cut me to ribbons.”

 

Connie and Marco threw a nasty glare to Sasha, but she only shrugged, her expression blank. “Same diff.”

 

“Big diff!” I shouted, throwing my hands out. “I kinda like my limbs!”

 

Sasha merely scoffed, as though the idea of watching each of my body parts slowly being chopped off was nothing to worry about. “Pain is a good motivator.”

 

“I'd rather not DIE.”

 

“Even more motivation.”

 

I'm about ready to kill her myself when Sasha suddenly jumped forward to grab a crossbow, somersaulted to a kneel and aimed right at me. The arrow just barely grazed my arm, but I'd rather be bleeding from that scratch than a hole in my chest. 

 

Everyone seemed to be stuck in shock because no one had moved an inch except for Sasha, who was gearing up for another attack to my side. I burst forward to get out of her line of sight again. “Are you crazy?!”

 

“ _ You're _ crazy if you think these guys will go easy on you because you can't fight on even ground,” Sasha explained, jumping behind some bleachers when a blue blast kept her from firing at me again. “No cheating, Marco, we had a deal!”

 

“He had to agree to it first!” Marco called.

 

“He did!”

 

Out of nowhere, another arrow shot out, and I almost didn't make it in time before I was impaled. That fate was given to the unfortunate shield I had snatched up from Sasha's collection.

 

“I take it back,” I told her. “You're  _ constantly _ a real bitch.”

 

That got me two more arrows.

 

Marco was pissed. “Sasha-”

 

“Do you honestly think he'll be able to survive on fists alone?” Sasha interrupted. “No magic? No nothing? No; he'll be dead in seconds!”

 

Marco flinched, scowling in her general direction as another arrow came out to keep me from running off while she was distracted. Damn it.

 

“You can't stop it, Marco,” Sasha continued. “And you can't be there to protect him forever. You can only prepare for the worst case scenario and be ready for it.”

 

Mikasa nodded agreement with her, earning three sets of frowns from the men in the room. I was too busy keeping my eyes out for anymore flying death sticks.

 

“Fine!” My outburst shook the group, and they all gaped at me as I stood straighter behind my shield to face Sasha. “Gimme your best shot.”

 

“Oh, no.” Connie buried his face in his hands. Guess I shouldn't have said that. Especially now that arrows are literally raining down from the air now. Straight at me. Well, damn.

 

I shot off to try and outrun the larger mass of arrows headed my way and wove in for the thinner parts of the hoard. With fewer arrows in this section, it was easier for me to hide behind my shield, but one of them nicked my arm again and took a good chunk with it. A scream behind me sent ice through my veins, and when I looked back, Mikasa had the arrow that hit me stuck clean through her shoulder. 

 

Holy shit, she hit Mikasa. 

 

_ Holy shit, she hit Mikasa. _

 

Armin was panicking and trying to run to her side, but she blanked out like static, and disappeared. Armin stopped after that, still clearly upset as he turned to try and find her, but also looking at me as though not wanting to leave. 

 

“Don't let your guard down!”

 

_ Thwook  _

 

_ Thwook  _

 

_ Thwook _

 

Three more arrows followed with Sasha's advice and latched onto my shield. Doesn't she run out? Seeing as they're glowing, probably not. Fear spread through me all over again at this realization just as I turned back to see Armin look to Marco, silently asking him what to do. Marco nodded, promising whatever it was that Armin had asked of him, and Armin did the same. After that, Armin looked to me one last time with an apology in his eyes before rushing out to try and find Mikasa. She needs him more than I do right now.

 

_ Thwook  _

 

_ Thwook _

 

_ Thwook _

 

_ Thwook _

 

More arrows came down as I fell back into the fight. Too close to me. Way too close. If those arrows hurt a ghost, what the Hell could they do to a live human? I didn’t want to find out; I had to stop it somehow before I could. Fear fueled me in my search through the supply of given weapons for something close by, preferably something I could actually use. A mace, Connie’s obnoxious hammer, a net, darts- good grief, woman.

 

My foot got grazed by another arrow, and I yelled out as I limped back a few steps and tripped over onto my butt. Instantly, I threw the shield in front of me to grab another arrow in my place.

 

“Take it easy, Sash!” Connie looked like he was having trouble holding Marco back, and the murderous intent in his eyes didn't help either. “You're killing me, here.”

 

“Fine!” Sasha finally came out of hiding to race back to the weapons, the crossbow dissolving into green, glowing particles as it disappeared into thin air. “But I'm offended if you think I'll hold back here, too.”

 

Her eyes were stuck on a pair of swords lying on the mat a few feet in front of me. Well this doesn't take a genius. I scrambled to snatch away at least  _ one _ of the swords before she could, and stumbled back when she immediately swung at me when I couldn't get the other sword in time.  _ Bitch _ .

 

My sword came up to block another one of her blows, the vibrations from the hit ringing through my arm. Sasha's eyes were lit with fire, and if I didn't know she was serious before, I know now for a fact that she's not playing around. Whatever she saw in my eyes, Sasha seemed to see how badly freaked out I was, and just kept going at me non-stop. 

 

“You're right side is wide open,” she yelled, right before swinging at my retreating torso. Sasha pulled back for another attack. “You've got to keep up with your opponent, know what they're thinking, plan out what they're going to do and what you'll do to counter!”

 

A shower of blows rained down on me with every word she spoke and it took all I had in me not to fall over again. The shield fell from my grip and I focused more on blocking her attacks with both of my hands on the hilt of my sword rather than trying to pick up the shield again. She was backing me up to the other side of the mat with ease and I could do nothing to stop it.

 

“If all you do is defend then you'll never get out without a few scratches!” To prove her point, Sasha flicked her wrist to slice down the back of my arm, effectively causing me to scream out in pain and drop my sword. Sasha was quick to pick it up and wield it against me. Shit. “What will you do now, Jean?”

 

Sasha is a terrible teacher. 

 

Before I can comment on her questionable methods, she was already charging at me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something shining and dove for it, snatching up a blade about the length of my forearm and throwing her next hit off of me with a grunt. Now that's more like it. 

 

The knife felt firm and comfortable in my grip, protecting my now bleeding arm from another attack. I was crouched in attack stance, ready for her next hit, watching her every move. She wasn't going to cut me again now that I've got this baby. Sasha grinned at this before advancing again.

 

“Good! You  _ can _ learn!”

 

“Shut up, potato bitch,” I snarled, dodging another swing from the now dual wielding woman. “You have to be one of the worst teachers I have ever met.”

 

“Thank you!”

 

Another swipe nearly took my ear off. 

 

The clang of metal on metal rang out loud and clear through the large, acoustic room as we fought. My eyes never left her movements and my blade kept me safe from another cut, but Sasha was ruthless, and started getting faster.

 

“The beauty about a smaller blade is that it amps up your agility big time,” Sasha told me, taking a step back to swing her swords around her wrists to readjust her grip before charging me again. “Show me what you got!”

 

I just barely managed to glance her swords off of me when she struck, but the force of the hit dropped me to my knee. It gave me the perfect chance to try and sweep my other leg out under her feet to trip her.

 

Sasha saw right through this and jumped to avoid being tripped. I took this opportunity to hightail it out of there to put some space between us. Just a few steps, that's all I could manage, but it was all I needed. I swung out again to at least knick her shoulder, but she blocked me again with the sword in her other hand.

 

“Nice!” Sasha’s eyes were pretty much sparkling when she shoved me away. “Keep it up!”

 

With a growl, I yanked back from another attack from her swords and spun around to put some momentum behind my next jab to her other shoulder, once again getting blocked by one of the swords. Without thinking, I dropped my knife to my other hand before we could make contact and thrust forward, just grazing the front of Sasha's shirt while she retreated from my attempt at stabbing.

 

“Good! Think outside of the box! Use your body and weapons as one!”

 

Yeah. Her eyes are definitely sparkling. It's really pissing me off.

 

I threw the knife back to my other hand and lunged for her, but before I could even get close, Sasha snatched up my wrist, yanked me into her body to elbow my shoulder and slashed at my calf with the other sword. A scream bounced off the walls as I fell on my ass and had just barely opened my eyes in time to see Sasha coming at me again. My knife was up in an instant- but then it was flying. 

 

The blood from the cut on my arm had slicked my fingers into uselessness as the blade slipped from my grasp and landed on the mat away from me. Way too far away from me. I stare in shock at it, clinging to my leg and trying not to pass out.

 

“I thought I told you not to let your guard down!”

 

My eyes caught Sasha's crazed ones in the midst of her charging after me while I was stuck on my ass defenseless against her, and Connie and Marco watch in horror from the sidelines.

 

“Sasha, stop!”

 

But she doesn't, and her eyes are becoming more manic as she raises her sword to slice me in half. 

 

“JEAN!”

 

She swung. 

 

This is it. I'm done for. Before I close my eyes for impact, I can see my death in the reflection of her blade- right next to the distorted image of Marco’s terrified eyes shown clear as day to me. Guess I didn't move quick enough to make sure he didn't get hurt.

 

I'm sorry, Marco. 

 

What a great way to spend my final moments. Curled up in a flinch trying to protect myself from some psycho witch that I wasn't even supposed to be fighting in the first place. I found the whole ordeal to be completely and utterly stupid. It took me a few seconds to realize that I had had time to think this up without being beheaded in the meantime, and carefully opened my eyes.

 

The sight of Sasha was still before me, bent over from the force of her swing and wild smile still in place. In her hand, the swords she used to try and tear me apart with were dissolving slowly into the air, one glowing, green particle at a time. It never even touched me. 

 

Sasha's smile widened as she caught me peeping through my arms, panting from her efforts and thoroughly pleased with herself. The glow of her swords shimmered off of her cheek, but there was also a reflective glow in her eyes. This one, however, was blue, and when I looked up, there was a shield of blue energy keeping her from getting closer to me.

 

Slowly, Sasha stood up straight and let her swords vanish into nothingness before putting her fists on her hips. “Got some room for improvement.”

 

Suddenly, and without warning, blue flashed bright between us, and Sasha flew to the side. She couldn't have been airborne for more than a second until she landed and slid along the floor for a few good feet before she skidded to a stop.

 

My eyes turned back to find a completely pissed off Marco lowering his arm.

 

“Never let your guard down,” he growled.

 

“Um,  _ ow!” _ Sasha sat up holding her head. “What the Hell? That hurt!”

 

“You’ll live.” Marco ignored her, eyes only on me as he marched over to my side and instantly started checking me over. “Are you alright?”

 

A second. Then another. Marco is here. When did he get here? Wasn’t I just saying goodbye? Shit, he’s staring at me now, I think I’m supposed to answer. Say something. Anything.

 

“Hello.”

 

Way to go, loser.

 

Marco frowned but didn’t say anything. Instead, he went back to inspecting my cuts and set to work healing the worst of the damage first. Namely, my leg. The sensation of warm water crept up my shin, and instantly, I was relieved. Everything was going to be alright.

 

Behind Marco, Connie was helping Sasha back to her feet with a scolding of his own. I wasn’t too interested in it, what with Marco’s hand climbing up my leg, but then Sasha turned to spit out angry accusations and ruined the moment.

 

“Did you really think I was going to hurt him?”

 

“You already did!” Marco kept his focus on me. He wouldn’t look at her.

 

Sasha scoffed. “Not by much.”

 

That got a glare. Marco whipped around to yell, the power of his voice echoing off the large walls. “Damn it, Sash, you could have killed him!”

 

“And Annie won’t even stop to think about snapping his neck!” Sasha stomped her foot at her outburst. “To get tough, you gotta play tough; that’s how I learned and if it’s not with us, that’s how he will to!”

 

“‘He’ is right here,” I piped, raising my non-bleeding hand. “And ‘he’ would like a break from all of the very loud screaming and the ignoring him during an argument and the blood loss that’s kind of making him woozy.”

 

As if on cue, Marco’s hand grabbed my arm and jolted me back. Apparently, I was starting to fall over. Huh. That’s surprising. What’s even moreso is the red covering the equipment. It’s everywhere. There's a puddle here, a splash there, a few sprinkles in between; boy, is Coach Haberkorn going to be pissed when he finds out. What's even more concerning is the fact that I’m starting to feel everything now. Every cut, every hit, every jar… 

 

“Whoops,” I chuckled, neck rolling without support. “Guess the adrenaline is gone.”

 

“Easy-” Marco gently pulled me forward to lay my forehead over his shoulder, and the feeling of warm water returned to my leg. “Just relax.”

 

I could feel Marco turn his head again and after a few, awkward seconds of nothing, Sasha’s voice dwindled out.

 

“Okay, so I may have gone a little overboard…”

 

“You think?” I snorted. Ow. Let’s not do that again. I closed my eyes, content to just ride the waves of Marco’s healing out when a thought occurred to me, and I frowned. “You shot Mikasa.”

 

I don’t know how, but apparently Sasha heard me. “She wasn't supposed to get hurt.”

 

“Well, she did,” I muttered. 

 

“No,” Sasha sighed, sounding a little more distressed than before. I guess she must feel bad or something. “I mean none of those weapons were designed to hurt anybody- at least, not enough to kill,” she tacked on pretty quickly when I felt Marco’s head move so fast I think I felt his neck pop. “It's set up to disappear before a killing blow, but Mikasa couldn't have set off the spell because she's dead already. None of my weapons could have because she's not really there; it should have flown right through her, and the only weapons that can hurt her are hard to find.”

 

Huh. “... Well that’s unnerving.”

 

“Why don’t we talk about this later,” Marco said, moving his hand to my knee now. “Preferably when we’re all sound of mind?”

 

I am perfectly sound of mind, thank you. Wait, I didn’t say that out loud, did I… Nope, guess not. Fuck, did I eat enough this morning? I shouldn’t be this loopy from a few cuts.

 

“We’ll go get you some juice,” Connie offered. I thought he was gone for a sec. “It’s about dinner time anyway.”

 

Maybe I did say it out loud.

 

With that, Connie escorted Sasha by the arm while she worriedly looked back every few steps out of the gym. Marco stayed with me, still keeping my head up on his shoulder. This is nice.

 

The smell of cedar fills my nose as I take in a deep breath from Marco’s neck and sigh out contentedly. It's warm here, and comforting. Why did I ever want to leave this?

 

It was a foolish endeavor in the first place. I've always been weak willed, I don't know why I thought I could even try. Marco’s too important to lose. Especially if I still have time with him before I lose him. I guess it took a few sword stabs and quite a bit of blood loss to actually start thinking clearly. I snorted humorously at the thought. Of course.

 

“What is it?” Marco’s voice is soothing, and it makes me smile as I nuzzle in closer to it.

 

“Nothin’,” I mumbled. “Just realizing how stupid I am. Staying away is dumb.”

 

The feeling of warm water rippled a bit harder as Marco stiffened. It went back to normal after a second though, and his soft voice came back to caress my ears. “... Then why did you do it?”

 

“It's me we're talking about, here.” I grumbled.“Figures I had to learn the hard way; it's the only way I can.” 

 

“Learn what, Jean?” he asked, still soft. “What do you mean?”

 

A hefty sigh rumbled out of me and I had to bury my eyes in the warm neck offered to me to hide from my explanation. “You and Armin and everybody are important to me. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

 

“What?” The comfort I had been given promptly jolted and jiggled away from me as Marco flustered a bit. Meanwhile, I just tried to stay lodged in his neck to make it harder on him and less painful for me and those damn, bright lights. “Jean? What do you mean? I’m the one who-”

 

“You can’t get too close on the job.” I tell him simply, purposefully grinding my nose into his neck to hide from the lights trying to burn my eyes out. “Get close, get stupid… but I’m already stupid. I can’t even go a couple days without missing you.”

 

Marco stopped moving abruptly, and I took the chance to wiggle deeper into his neck. Slowly, the muscles I held onto began to relax, and I scooted closer to hang onto the warmth they provided. This is nice.

 

The warm water seems to be done with my leg and is now moving to my arm that somehow managed to drape itself over Marco’s back. I groaned in distaste at having to readjust for him to keep working, but Marco guided my head to his other shoulder to let me get settled like before. The smell of cedar filled my lungs again and my eyes felt much more relaxed than before. This is so much better.

 

I don't know how long we sat there and I don't really care. We stayed there on the floor for much longer than was deemed necessary, just taking each other in. My cuts had all been stitched back up and I wasn't bleeding anymore, but the fatigue of the blood loss and the sudden drop of adrenalin left me almost comatose. I didn't care how we looked, hanging onto Marco felt good, damn it.

 

It was warm, and safe, and inviting. It was just what I wanted. I think he wanted it too.

 

“Marco?” The sudden break in silence came from a soft whisper of my lips, earning a questioning hum in return. “I'm sorry for being stupid.”

 

Warmth surrounded me then as Marco drew closer to wrap me in his arms. A deep sigh filtered between us, and just as we settled back into silence, Marco finally responded. 

 

“Me too.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Figures Jean would learn a few things after a couple bonks to the body, the dork.
> 
> Tell me what you think! I love talking with you guys :] Also, I believe the art associated with this fic is under tumblr.com/smitty-mouse with the tag Name of a Witch or My Art. Go nuts. I think the Fresh out of Water doodles are there too.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's go time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been on a ROLL lately (yay) Hopefully I can get a few more chapters in before I start my new job in a couple weeks but until then, enjoy my boredom. I hope you like it!
> 
> Oh, also, there's finally some action in this chapter. Heads up!
> 
> Still unbetad, still on my phone. Ugh.

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 23**

\---

 

“Alright, kiddos,” Hanji announced, bouncing on their toes. “Time for some action!”

 

We were all so used to Hanji randomly bursting through the door that nobody really bothered getting up to defend the place against intruders when they did. Besides, Hanji was the only one with the key to that door anyhow, and it had been unanimously assigned as the team’s entrance with their key. The only thing that got our attention was the line of people filing in as well.

 

Behind Hanji, a man wandered in through the door with a constipated look on his face pointed directly at the bouncing bozo in front of him. He was stern looking, if not a little bored but held his head low to keep an eye on Hanji. His posture was relaxed but his eyes weren't. I knew exactly who he was before he was introduced. 

 

“Don't mind the new stiff, that's just my assistant, Moblit,” Hanji proclaimed. 

 

Called it.

 

Out of nowhere, Sina hissed so hard her back arched and her fur stood on end. One second she was fine, the next she's growling and booking it out of the room. I looked to what had upset her so much and couldn't stop my little laugh when I realized who else was walking in. Even my cat hates sausages. 

 

Eren stumbled in after Moblit, followed closely by Armin who looked to his friend worriedly. From the looks of Eren, I could see why. 

 

Dark circles hung heavy under Eren’s eyes and he actually looked a little skinnier than the last time I saw him. His hair was unkempt and wet from a fresh shower that did little to rejuvenate him, and whatever skin that popped out from behind clothing looked to be as worn and broken down as the exhausted sausage himself. There were even bruises here and there covering the rest of him, and a band aid strapped to the bridge of his nose and underside of his jaw and chin.

 

“You get into a fight with a blender again, Jaeger?” I asked, but he didn't even have the energy to argue with me. Instead, he simply scowled and plopped down on the couch, trying to stay awake. “Well, you're no fun today.”

 

He promptly flipped me off as his head fell back onto the couch. Armin offered a shrug and a little half smile before sitting down next to Eren. Meanwhile, Hanji looked about ready to vibrate out of their skin.

 

“We've got big plans for you, boys and girl,” they piped. “It's gonna be one big shebang.”

 

“That why you brought your new guard dog?” I asked, throwing a thumb at Moblit. 

 

Hanji beamed and threw an arm around the poor soul who was in charge of keeping them in line for the most part. “Yep! Moblit here will be helping us with the raid for Annie so I figured you should get to know him now.”

 

“Wait, so we  _ are _ raiding the place?” Connie asked, currently in the middle of some sort of potato chip stacking contest with Sasha. “I thought we were just watching them for now.”

 

Hanji turned their manic grin to the two competing morons. “Turns out, Marlow Freudenburg wasn't the only one with a routine.”

 

“No.” The whole room turned to me, but I didn't care. Someone as dangerous as Annie doesn't make it a habit for people to find them. “That's too easy, I don't like it.”

 

“Yeah,” Hanji sighed out a content smile and stretched their arms high above their head as they walked to lean against a wall. “Neither did I until I heard that it wasn't Annie's routine.”

 

“The whole place runs like clockwork.” I turned to the newbie of the room to find Moblit watching the rest of us, arms crossed as he spoke. “Annie herself works on her own terms, but this place she goes to seems to have rules. Whatever the reason, it seems she's bound to them same as everyone else.” Moblit flicked his eyes to mine. “With that in mind, finding Annie will be as easy as distract, grab and run. Done.”

 

“I didn't believe it at first,” Hanji said, a little on the quiet side as they survey the room as well, finally resting on me. “But I wouldn't bring the plan up to you guys if I weren't sure it would work.”

 

And it's true. Hanji had tasted failure from lack of preparation before, and it was a lesson that they had engraved into their very being. Not only for them, but for the people they cared about. Knowing Hanji, they had never jumped in without a life vest ever since that day.

 

Still. This all feels too easy. 

 

My skin tingles as I open my mouth, but I know Hanji. I trust them. Always have. 

 

“Alright. What do we do?”

.

.

.

 

The plan was simple. The Distraction Team was to skip to the warehouse ahead of the Extraction Team to distract and bring out all of the warehouse’s defenses. While they kicked ass, the extraction team snuck through the back to snatch Annie up and meet up with the distraction team once she had been incapacitated. The problem was, we didn't know how to do that.

 

“There's no way we could get close enough to her to draw her into a trap,” Armin said. “And she'd never let anybody get a spell out before she would kill them.” He shook his head. “I don't know how, but she's always had this ability to know when people are around, so even if we had people hidden from sight, we'd still lose. We can't sneak up on her, and we can't ambush her. Period.”

 

Marco rubbed his hands down his face and heaved out a sigh. His tired shoulders drooped with him but the tension remained. What he has to say is obviously not a welcome thought. 

 

“What about Mikasa?” he asked, but Armin frowned to his lap.

 

“Still missing,” he said quietly, his frown deepening as he closed his eyes. “Besides, the place is way too warded; she'd never make it inside.”

 

I frowned as well. It had been a couple days since Mikasa had been hit by that fly away arrow and still, there was no sign of her. No one knew where she was or how she was doing. She just vanished. Since then, Mikasa has been a bit of a sore subject around here. Desperation must have brought on Marco’s question because he still looks like he had to struggle to get the words out. 

 

When I looked over to Sasha, she had a worried look on her face as well. She still doesn't understand how or why her magic had hurt Mikasa, and no one has an answer for her either. She's been a little less aggressive with the team since Mikasa’s disappearance, and while that may be a good thing, it still sucks that the only reason Sasha is playing nice now is because she feels guilty for almost killing their friend.

 

“Okay, so forget the wards and focus on the target then,” Connie piped, trying to clear the air. “What if we were able to surprise Annie with tactics? Instead of spells or traps, we throw an ice bomb at her or something. We could have back ups to double team her so she's not expecting it.”

 

“That could work,” Sasha hummed in thought. “But it would have to be something a bit more impressive than an ice bomb. Especially since she  _ was _ an ice witch.”

 

Something clicked in my brain. A miniscule memory that had been tucked away with no use. Until now. “What if we gave it back?”

 

Once again, everyone in the room turned to me. 

 

“Think about this for a second,” I went on, looking to Armin as I explained. “If we gave her back her powers and you your own, that should knock her off her feet long enough for us to bag her.”

Something strange flickered in Armin’s eyes as he regarded me. “How do you know this?”

 

Oops. I bit my lip. Seeing as Armin clearly didn't want to divulge anymore info on the spell that ruined his life, it figures that I never asked him about it. Dragging Marco or anyone else into his problems would have made things even more uncomfortable, not only for Armin, but myself and the person who got stuck helping me. So of course, I went and looked it up on my own. Armin sees this fact without me even having to say anything and he shakes his head with a resigned sigh.

 

“Look, you said so yourself that if all things went well, you actually  _ could _ switch back,” I tell him. “Why not kill two birds with one stone? I mean, if we have enough people fighting her off, at least one of us could cast the spell and switch you back. Then, while she's all wobbly and defenseless, we cast another spell and trap her.” I shrugged my shoulders out, silently asking if I'm wrong. “If anything, we could even say that's what we're there for; bargain with her, maybe. She may be up to it so that she can get her magic back too. I'm sure she hates the switch just as much as you do.”

 

Armin’s expression is grim and hopeless. “Jean-”

 

“He's right.” Marco surprised us all with his words. “It's about time things got set right between you two. Even if it didn't help us, I'd still say we cast the spell.” He nodded his head to me. “As it stands, I think Jean is onto something.”

 

There's a blush fighting with me that is more annoying than it's worth. Compliments always get me, the bastards. Instead, I looked away and cleared my throat. 

 

“You could ideally make a deal with Annie, but she would never go for it,” Marco went on, pursing his lips. “However, I do think that the idea itself should throw her enough to either give us a second or two before she recovers, or distract her throughout the fight.”

 

“Or both,” Hanji said, a crooked smile to their lips. “Either way, I like the odds.”

 

“Okay,” I said decisively. “Then that's the plan. Offer the olive branch before shanking it through her gut. I like it.”

 

“Now wait just a minute,” Armin griped. “Don't I get a say in this? You need me to fight, how can I do that when I'm just as messed up as her?”

 

“You're all getting back up,” Hanji explained. “Each team will have a minimum of three people so nobody gets left in a jam. Though, to be fair, I'm thinking the distraction team should at least have six.”

 

At this, my expression drops. The darkness of my glare would have caught Hanji full force if they hadn't been avoiding eye contact. “And who exactly is joining up with whom?” I asked, articulating each and every syllable to get the point across that whatever answer they give me will not be accepted.

 

Hanji seems to know this, and meets my scathing glare with a bored one of their own, completely over my drama. “I think you know the answer to that, Renny boy.”

 

Great. Just great. Fan-fucking-tastic. 

 

A deep, thunder rolling sigh pounds out of my chest because of course, I'm going to have to see some old faces if I ever want to get out of this alive. I rubbed my hands down my face and swallowed my acceptance of the fact. “Where do I go?”

 

Hanji nodded, happy with my agreeable nature and stood away from the wall, uncrossing their arms. “You'll stay behind with me and Moblit,” they tell me. “The place is guarded not only by witches but tainted golems too. There's going to be blood.” Their gaze hardened on me to make a point. “Best to have all of our medics on hand for when the whole Scooby Gang comes back.”

 

For once, I agree. I nod as I think back to my teachings as a child. In the Jewish world, a golem is a clay doll that had been brought to life and protects as it is directed. Apparently, from what I've  _ recently _ researched, those stories are real, and if those powerful creatures are made only to protect our enemies- and tainted with ill intentions, no less- then I'd rather not let my friends cross their path. At least, not without Momma-Jean mode coming in with a band aid afterward.

 

As much as I hate being left behind, I know this course of action might be for the best. So, I nod and look up from the floor to ask who would be assigned where next, only to see the room visibly relax. Sasha’s eyes were wide with concern still, but Connie, Marco, Hanji- even Moblit were all watching me. The only one  _ not _ staring was Jaeger, and that was only because he had passed out on the couch ages ago. That's not creepy at  _ all _ .

 

“What?” I ask.

 

“It's just…”

 

Whatever it was, Sasha couldn't finish. She flicked her eyes over to catch Connie before he turned his attention back to me. “You're taking this pretty well. We figured you'd start a fight for being left behind.”

 

I deadpanned.  _ Loudly _ .

 

“Once again, your vote of confidence in me is  _ absolutely  _ astounding.”

 

Connie snickered obnoxiously. “Aw, skip it, Kirstein, we all know how much you love the drama.”

 

“Bite me, Springer.”

.

.

.

 

My pack hadn't been used in years, yet the weight of it felt natural on my hip, like it belonged there. The weight of the medical supplies organized inside each of the pockets and pouches and cubbies barely registered as an annoyance, but rather a fond memory.

 

As much as I had liked my job as a kid, being a back alley doctor with Hanji had had it's perks too, and having my old kit back could only make me relax. I had my kit, I had my skill, I had control.  _ This _ was something that I could handle. Screw your magic, I had a pouch full of adrenalin and sedatives. Talk about a wild trip.

 

A content sigh slipped past my lips as I strapped my bag shut and lifted it over my shoulder. It's both surprising and not that Hanji had held onto it all these years. It even still has an old Blink 182 button pinned on it and a scratched in inking of a 3D ‘Green Day’ on the side of it from when I was bored one day. Boy, has time flown.

 

“Hey,” Behind me, a small knock and even smaller voice alerted me of Marco coming into the room. He offered me a smile as he stepped closer and I returned it without hesitation. “We're about to head out. Just wanted to… to check in on you.”

 

Things had been a little weird between us since Sasha's crazed training but, not really in a bad way. More of, it's like neither of us know what to do with the other anymore. Like we're in new territory with each other, exciting and anxious at the same time

 

It's tense while we wait for the other to make the first move, to see if that closeness I had blundered on about was really there or not, each and every time we're alone together. Today is no different.

 

We did the usual, awkward shuffle with bashful smiles and nervous chuckles for a good thirty seconds or so before Marco cleared his throat and reached for his neck. “I've got something for you.”

 

Quietly, Marco pulled off a leather cord from around his neck and held it in between us. Dangling from the center of it was a small, smooth stone about the size of a coin if it had been stretched out in one of those penny smashers. My fingers went for the stone immediately to inspect it but left the cord in Marco's hands.

 

“It's amber,” Marco explained. “It's supposed to protect you.”

 

My eyes flicked up to his. “Then shouldn't you be wearing it?”

 

Marco could only smile and hold up his other hand with a similar bracelet wrapped around his wrist. “I figured you'd ask that.”

 

I couldn't help the smile that crept over me as I finally took the gift and slipped it over my head, tucking the stone carefully under my shirt. “Thank you.”

 

There we go again with the bashful silence. I got sick of it and decided to take the plunge. There was a staff strapped to his back, so I pointed to it. That was safe to talk about, right?

 

“That all you bringing?” I asked, making him turn to look at it only to continue on for half a second like a dog chasing its tail because it was still strapped to his back. It would have been cruel to stifle my chuckle. “Will it be enough?”

 

Marco kept his eyes down to try and hide his embarrassment from me while he chuckled himself and yanked out his staff. “I know it doesn't look like much,” he starts. “But I've been filling it with rune and reserve power for the last day or two. It's a lot stronger than it looks.”

 

With a swift flick of the wrist, Marco presented his weapon to me, and I could see nothing special about it whatsoever. It was just a simple stick. My head stayed down, but my eyes flicked up to him. Seems my look of incredulity was enough to bring another chuckle out of Marco, and he motioned for me to inspect it closer. Alright. I'll play.

 

I leaned in closer to look at the stick in Marco’s hand. Still boring. Marco cocked a brow at my unimpressed look when our eyes met and reached out for my hand.

 

Gently, he cupped my hand over the handle and warmth spread through my hand, both from the touch of the wood as well as the touch of his hand. I swallowed. When Marco lifted his hand away, I spared one last look at him before I lifted my hand a fraction of an inch.

 

Beneath my hand, blue light glowed from the staff. When I spread out my fingers I noticed that the blue was coming from random inscriptions carved into the wood with magic, invisible to the naked eye. Slowly, I moved my hand up and down the staff, lighting up each individual spell and marvelled at its beauty. Okay.  _ Now _ I was impressed.

 

I chuckled lightly, still captured by the magic flowing warmly beneath my hands. Warm water. Huh.

 

Marco chuckled as well and caught my eyes. I gave him a smirk, which he countered with his tongue sticking out. Mature. I shook my head with another smile and nodded to the staff, not quite done playing with it yet.

 

“Donatello would be jealous,” I murmured.

 

Marco snickered. “Why do you think I picked it?”

 

This earned him a snort. “Come on, man; everyone knows Leonardo was the best.”

 

“Bull,” Marco smirked. “Don had all the brains  _ and _ could kick ass. He should have been the leader.”

 

“No way!” I finally pulled my hand away to look Marco in the eye. “Leo was  _ obviously _ the best pick. Master Splinter would never have chosen a nerd when he had the street smart son up his sleeve.”

 

Marco scoffed at me. At  _ me. _ The brat. “Whatever you say, dude.”

 

“Okay,  _ Mikey _ .”

 

“First off: how dare you.”

 

It was nice to finally relax again, even with the approaching battle. My smile stayed in place in my eyes while we joked, but the feeling of loss that would inevitably follow the end of our conversation filled me up like bile. Marco felt it too, I know he did, because the twinkle in his eye died a little bit as we dwindled into silence.

 

Any minute now, Marco would have to leave for the mission. There was really no other place for him besides the distraction team. As unbelievable as it sounded, the team meant to fight in enemy territory was actually much safer for him. Annie had absolute control over Marco so long as she knew his name. 

 

From what I had gathered from the books and what people told me, it was like getting lost in a dream with no control, but no fear either. You simply drifted, doing as you’re told by your master and not bothering to worry about the consequences of your actions because it’s all a dream. Why fear a dream?

 

The instant she saw Marco, she could have killed him; or worse, she could have used him against us. Still though, I didn't like the odds. Six against who the Hell knows however many witches and monsters were definitely not favorable odds.

 

I scratched at the nape of my neck, biting my lip. “Be careful out there,” I tell him quietly.

 

Marco smiled again. “Yeah.”

 

Silence. 

 

Neither of us could think of anything else to say, yet neither wanted to leave, even though it was well past due. Finally, after an excruciating sixty seconds, Marco offered me a brave smile and bid his farewells.

 

“I'll see you when it's over,” he said, turning to leave. “Wait for me.”

 

I don't know how, I don't know why, but my body reacted before my brain did. I didn't want him to go. I didn't want him to fight. I wanted us to stay together, maybe wrapped up in a blanket fighting over the TV and a can of whipped cream while Sina watched us poor fools and judged us with her judgey judgeness. I wanted him. I wanted Marco.

 

As I came to this realization, my eyes finally began to see again, and to my horror, I saw my hand holding onto Marco’s wrist for dear life. My gaze lifted, and Marco was watching me with wide, beautiful brown eyes. He seemed concerned, most likely from the look on my face and the death grip I had on him, but I couldn't stop. 

 

Long ago, after I left, after the accident, I had made a promise. I promised that I would change for the better. I promised I would do whatever was best for me, do what made  _ me _ happy and would never again relapse into an unhealthy lifestyle. Living by my old rules just puts me back behind again. It's not like I hadn't made mistakes before, and the old rules had never helped me in the first place when it came to my happiness, so. I guess. It's time to nut up or shut up. 

 

“Um,” I swallowed. Hard. My eyes were locked on with Marco’s as he waited patiently for me to speak again. Nut up, Jean. “I like you.” His eyes widened. “I like you a lot. A  _ lot,  _ a lot.” Well, shit, now I can't turn off my mouth. “I really,  _ really _ like you a lot, and when this is over, I'd really like to take you to dinner.”

 

Silence. Absolute torture. What was even worse than the silence, however, was the fact that Marco ripped his hand from mine. 

 

Instantly, my eyes dropped and I backed off. I didn't realize that would hurt so much, but then Marco took a step forward and poked me hard in the chest, enough so that I had to take a step back.

 

“You,” he almost sneered, poking me again with each step. “Have already bought me  _ enough _ dinner.” My back hit the wall, and his burning eyes pinned me in place under his finger. “So I'd say it's time for dessert.”

 

… Wait, what?

 

I swallowed hard under his piercing gaze. He had me trapped, but I wasn't scared in the slightest. I was  _ excited.  _ I must have blinked or something because one minute I'm standing at the mercy of this solid chunk of tangible dominance and the next, Marco’s kissing me.  _ Really _ kissing me, like he might die if he can't get to my lips fast enough.

 

It's hungry and hard and insistent and  _ I absolutely love it _ . Strong hands hold me down by the neck and jaw as we suck each other in, and the taste of him is- oh,  _ fuck, yes, teeth! _

 

A groan of absolute pleasure purrs out of me as I watch Marco nibble over my bottom lip. It was over in an instant, far too quickly removed from us but I wasn't giving up without a fight. I had enough air in my lungs, it was time for round two.

 

My fingers tangled into soft, dark hair just like I had imagined and pulled Marco in close for another kiss. This time he slowed us down, no longer rabid and forced, but welcomed with tender circles rubbed into my skin. It was still strong, still pushing me into the wall, but this time I could feel enough to enjoy it.

 

Marco’s hands slid down my neck, over my chest and down to my waist, slowly feeling every move of my body along the way before he yanked me into his own. I moaned into his mouth, momentarily lost in bliss before the bite of the wall was pressed once again into my back.

 

Dazed and a little breathless, I looked up to Marco with a smile, seeing his own in return. Maybe this  _ was _ a good idea. It certainly felt like it. I played with his hair a bit, enjoying the weight of him on me against the wall, and a chuckle slithered its way out of me.

 

“‘Time for  _ dessert _ ’?” I mocked. “Can you get any cheesier?”

 

Marco pulled back a bit, still looking down at me. “Do you want me to take it back?”

 

He didn't get the chance to finish speaking before I pulled him back into me. Brat knows how to play, I keep forgetting that. My eyes closed contently as I laid my forehead on his chest, breathing in the scent of cedar once again. A snicker ruffled my hair from Marco, and his arms tightened around me. This. This was exactly what I wanted.

 

Slowly, I opened my eyes to the world and quietly spoke. “You better come back tonight,” I warned him. “Or else I'll be pissed.”

 

Marco hummed agreement as he buried his nose in my hair. “Guess I should listen,” he muttered right back. “I hate it when you're angry.”

 

“Damn right.” I finally pulled away and leaned up a little for one last kiss, warm and firm. “I'll make you pay if you don't.”

 

Marco nodded, his smile still transparent in his eyes. And then he left.

 

I watched as he went, trying to steel myself from going after him but this was all part of the plan. The distraction team left first, then the extraction, team while the medics stayed behind. Everything would work out fine so long as we followed the plan. I would see Marco again. I just had to trust him.

 

With one last rushed out sigh, I scrubbed my hands down my face to try and bring me back to reality. Problem was, I couldn't scrape off this goofy grin- especially when my fingers rubbed over the new bump under my shirt where the amber sat. Things went right. Things went  _ well _ , and now I'd be meeting up with Marco afterwards as more than just a brother in arms. Damn, I'm such a sap.

 

I slapped my cheeks hard enough to feel the sting and the growth of pink was due to the pain now rather than my sudden bout of school-girl-crushness. Get your head in the game, Kirstein. One last check on my med-kit turned into three then four then eight last checks before I finally pulled my head out of my ass and headed out the door.

 

The halls were quiet as I disturbed them with my noisy footsteps and wrinkly clothes. The distraction team had no doubt left in a skip already and the extraction team would be leaving any minute now, so I had to get ready too. My post would be the theater, close to a window to see the skip sight but also near the door where Hanji came in with their key. That door would remain open at all times if either of us needed the extra hands. It was a useful plan, so long as we followed it, meaning I should make it back to my post  _ now. _

 

I couldn't though. A sound other than my footsteps had filled the halls as well. It was quiet, barely noticeable, but I did. I noticed it. Because I know that voice.

 

A door was just barely cracked open enough to show a shadow pacing the room back and forth. The voice inside muttered quietly to itself, repeating the same words over and over again to try and fill its owner with confidence. It seemed that it was failing pretty hard, though.

 

Slowly, I pushed through the door to confirm my suspicions and watched Armin chew on his thumbnail and mumble to the ground as he circled the room. He didn't even notice I was there, he was so lost in his ramblings and trapped inside his fears. The words he uttered were indiscernible, but his eyes were wide and his nail was almost down past the nub, and when I strained, I could just make out what he was saying.  

 

_ “-out; get in, switch, power down, get out; get in, switch, power down, get out; get in-” _

 

The plan. Armin was going over the plan. From the sound of things, it looked to me as though he were trying to make it as simple as possible, but I know his brain. He saw every flaw, each loop hole, any individual outcome from even the slightest mishap. Armin was scared, and he wanted the words to drown out his thoughts. He didn't want to think, he wanted to act. What a healthy mindset, let me tell you.

 

Quietly, I stepped further into the room and knocked gently on the door frame, but the good that did was little to none since Armin still practically jumped out of his skin.

 

“Jean,” he sighed, barely a voice behind him. “Hello.”

 

I regarded him with a once-over before I cocked a brow, not even having to say anything. Armin gave a weak smile and shrugged into himself, eyes away from me.

 

“Nerves,” he explained, looking away while he hugged his arms a little too tightly. “I've never been able to beat my sister.”

 

This time when I looked at him, I crossed my arms and nodded. “Alright, but you're not alone this time,” I tell him. “So you have a chance.”

 

Armin wheezed out the most pitiful of desperate chuckles and nodded agreement, but he hardly looked convinced. His arms rubbed up and down for a while as he shifted on his feet, then looked at me with wide, blue eyes.

 

“Jean?” 

 

I waited, but so did he. He wasn't even confident enough to speak. That wasn't like him, not when it came to his own words. Something was off about him, and I didn't- 

 

“Don't freak out.”

 

Blue eyes widened impossibly larger as he approached me slowly, like a wild animal. I stood there, trying to look as non-threatening as possible but the longer he looked in my eyes, the more his fear grew, so I closed them. 

 

A sigh of relief rang out, and the tension in the room went from rock solid stifling to tangible enough to cut. I trusted Armin, and he trusted me, but seeing me trust him with his own eyes was something that he desperately needed, and I was glad to give it. 

 

A second, and then another, each carrying a breath that Armin used to steel himself with before the footsteps sounded again. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Stop.

 

I could feel the heat of his body in front of me and the heavy breaths he was panting from his lips. His anxiousness bounced off my skin like mist, and his-

 

His lips are on my own. 

 

Shock consumed me and without thinking, I opened my eyes to see Armin’s scrunched up tight. His hands were on my jaw, just like Marco’s had been not ten minutes before, but instead of hard and fast, Armin is soft and gentle. He doesn't even try anything, he's just pressed up against my lips.

 

Just like that, the kiss was over. Armin pulled away quickly and watched me with fearful eyes, swallowing hard.

 

“Make me regret that,” he ordered with a tiny, shaky voice. 

 

My eyes widened as I stared at him, but then the words sank in. In order for him to regret what he had done, Armin has to come back. Alive. 

 

Silently, my expression hardened and I gave him a nod. He had to come back. He had to  _ live _ .

 

“Alright,” Armin nodded as well and took a step back with a trembling breath. “Time to go.”

 

I waved my arm out to the door and watched as he walked past with his head held high, then followed Armin out the door. We were silent, each of us preparing for the battle ahead and too tense to try to break the ice. It was game time, but I couldn't get past what Armin had just done. He always had words. He never just acted.

 

The first two months that I had Armin in my class, he was not really memorable. Sure, his grades were great, but he was always so quiet. He didn't pipe up, he didn't stand out, and really, the only thing I had noticed about him was that he hung out with my TA, Eren. Armin was pretty much invisible to me. It wasn't until one day when I had gotten into a fight with Eren that I finally noticed him. 

 

It was bad. Like,  _ really _ bad. Close to blows bad, and Eren and I would no doubt have had to be forcibly removed from the school. We were right on the edge of no return, and what was worse was that we had had an audience for it; one with no mercy for either of us if Eren and I had actually slugged the other. It wouldn't have taken a millisecond for Eren to be expelled. Even less for me to get fired. 

 

But we didn't. 

 

Instead, Armin ran up in between us and wrapped his arms around our necks right in front of the board of directors. He laughed and tightened his grip on us before he flashed a brilliant smile and said that he was so thankful to have such devoted friends taking his game so seriously or some other dumb shit like that, and walked us both off while he prattled on about whatever it was that he had used to excuse us with. It wasn't until we were around the corner of the building that he ripped his arm off me and started apologizing like his life depended on it and practically begged me not to be angry with him because he had jumped in without thinking, because he  _ had _ to do something.

 

It's a rarity to see Armin without any words. Rare to see him act without speaking. The only time he ever does is when he's desperate. When he thinks he has no way out. When he doesn't think he can win. Like back then, when we had no hope of escaping that fight without repercussions. Like now, against his sister.

 

I don't like this.

 

The two of us marched out into the courtyard with the rest of the team. Sasha was waiting with a bow practically strapped to her arm and behind her, Hanji and Moblit were speaking with the third member of the extraction team. I'd recognize that old-man hair anywhere. When he turned, my suspicions were confirmed.

 

Aurluo smirked at me as Armin and I walked up to join the group, the same smarmy grin he'd always had. I never forgot how much I hated it.

 

“Well, well!” he pretty much shouted. “Little Bambi is back! Long time no see.”

 

“I told you not to call me that,” I snarled. I really hate this guy. “You joining the team?”

 

“Of course!” He did that annoying hair flip thing he liked to do to show off. It never worked on me. “These two youngin’s will need someone of superior skill to protect them.”

 

“Oh, I agree,” I said, staring flatly. “So when is he coming?”

 

Aurluo ticked his tongue at me and turned with a huff. Good. I can't stand how high and mighty he is and he's way too full of himself. Guys like him are the type to look down on people rather than help them. He is the absolute worst pick for this mission. My eyes catch Hanji’s to tell them this, but they only wave me off.

 

“Aurluo won't be a problem with these guys, won't you, Auri?” Hanji beamed then turned back to the group. “You guys ready?”

 

Armin stepped up to join the others, deathly quiet. I don't like this.

 

I watched as the team huddled up together to prepare for the skip as I walked over to Hanji and Moblit. “You really think they can do this?” I asked. “Said so yourself. There's going to be blood.”

 

“I know,” Hanji said, voice serious. “But there's only so much we can do in war.”

 

I hummed agreement, and Sasha threw the skipping stone high into the air. “You're right.” The stone burst into every color imaginable. “Which is why every war needs a field medic.”

 

I ran. 

 

Hanji screamed.

 

Colors touched.

 

And then, I was gone.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeheeheeheeheehee
> 
> I will never apologize for all these cliff hangers, mwahaha
> 
> Hit me up, tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome as well as just plain old talking because I like you guys :]


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the Battle for Annie commence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains scenes of violence, blood, drugs and a panic attack at the end of the chapter. If you become uncomfortable, please stop and come find me. We'll chat about it without all the details.
> 
> I'M ALIVE I SWEAR
> 
> So there's a little asterisks line where Armin is screaming at Jean and the way I had it designed is that the beginning of the sentence is really small and each word gets progressively larger until the end and it looked really cool but the formatting wasn't allowed here, I'm afraid, so you're going to have to use your imagination for that line.
> 
> In other news, I am now unemployed and trying to look for a job sooo that's fun. You would think that I'd have more free time now but I was wrong (so very wrong send help). Job hunting is a job in and of itself, and with the holidays coming up, I have to finish everyone else's gifts before I have to give it to them too. 
> 
> I'll try to update as often as I can, I promise. It may be this story, it may be others, but I promise to try nonetheless. In the meantime, have some butt-kicking. Enjoy!

 

 

 

\---

**Chapter 24**

\---

 

Colors. Colors everywhere. In my head, through my skin, mixed with my blood, trapped between my eyelashes- there was no escaping the swirling vortex that was every color in the universe pummeling my life away as it transported me to where I wanted to go. It was everywhere. At least I closed my eyes this time, for all the good it did me.

 

The hard ground slammed into my back like an angry ex and all of my air wheezed out of me. I coughed and choked and just barely turned over in time to keep from messing up my shirt. My head was still spinning and my blood was buzzing, but there was an annoying ring in my ear banging noisily on this side of indiscernible. It took a while for the colors to leave my eyes but eventually, I found the source of the noise.

 

Armin was kneeling next to me and he looked upset. I still couldn't understand him, but from the way his hands whipped through the air and the gleam in his eyes that looked exceptionally wild, I'd say he's mad at me for jumping into the skip.

 

“... so reckless ?!  You could've  died ! I  thought you  knew better  than that,  you  _ stupid asshole!”* _

 

Yep. Called it. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled, turning back over with a groan. “I'm an idiot. Let's just get this over with.”

 

With one last heave, I managed to stand up straight through Armin’s continued ranting and shook off the last of the jitters that lingered from the skip. Meanwhile, Sasha scowled at me as she created my weapon of choice and roughly shoved the knife I always used to spar with her into my hand; thankfully, inside of its sheath. Behind her, Aurluo scoffed at the debacle that was us and turned to survey the area while I strapped my knife to the small of my back.

 

“Would you mind bringing it down a few hundred notches?” Aurluo droned. “This is supposed to be a mission of  _ stealth _ .”

 

Armin snapped his mouth shut so forcefully I heard his teeth click, but his glare never left me. I could feel it burning my skin. I don't think he'd ever forgive me for this one but I couldn't risk the idea that Armin wasn't coming back from this. I couldn't chance it. Not with Armin’s nerves as shot as they were and the unreliable Aurluo hiding behind him to keep from ruining his ascott. Seriously, it's the twenty-first century, how asinine can you be? Buy a fucking scarf.

 

If it were any other member, I may have held back, but I doubt it, because I still can't believe Armin had the guts to kiss me. In fact, I have a hard time believing that he did it to make himself braver. He doesn't think he'll get out of this alive, and with that attitude, I would have to agree. 

 

“I can't believe you,” Armin hissed, still angry but much quieter now. He still hasn't shut up. 

 

The four of us crept along the bushes behind the building we had targeted, and even from here, I could hear the battle raging on at the front. I really hope Marco’s okay. I hope even more that a six man army was enough. If they fail, this whole thing blows up.

 

I shook my head to clear it of these useless thoughts. Follow the mission and everything will be alright. Focus.  _ Focus. _

 

Kind of hard to focus when you have an angry blonde yapping at your back. Armin was still behind me, the two of us flanking Sasha and Mr. Pissant as they scouted ahead. He was  _ still  _ yelling, even if it was whispered.

 

“I mean honestly, don't you ever think?” Armin stopped short when I turned on him, a scowl on my face.

 

“You didn't kiss me to bring you back,” I told him darkly, and his eyes widened. “You kissed me to say  _ goodbye _ .”

 

Finally, Armin stopped  talking.

 

I waited.

 

And waited.

 

And  _ waited.  _

 

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. No sputtering, no denying- just awful, terrible silence. For ten God-awful seconds, Armin stared at me with the most horrified blue eyes I had ever had the displeasure of seeing on him. He didn't say a word. Then, after closing his mouth, Armin looked away from me, and left to tail behind Sasha.

 

I hate it when I'm right.

 

Up ahead of us, Aurluo had managed to pry open a window and climbed up onto the edge to haul the rest of us up one by one. Armin wouldn't look at me. Instead, he whipped out the map-tracker-thingy he had created from our intel, then crept up to the only door in the room and cracked it open. After a few seconds, Armin slipped out into the hallway, and each of us followed behind him.

 

The sound of battle echoed dully through the halls and people could be heard shouting and running to go and support their teammates against the intruders. A group of people ran through the main hallway, thankfully missing us from the smaller branch off to the side.

 

It stayed this way for about four more hallways; creeping and hiding and sneaking off to the next hall unsuspected. There were a few close calls when someone would run too close to the edge of the hall or stop near the entrance of it to call for more reinforcements, but for the most part, we made it through the building easily. Way too easily. I don't like this.

 

Finally, we reached the room that we had been looking for. At least, I think we did. Unless that tracker thingy Armin has is going bonkers for some other reason.

 

Armin clicked off the device and tucked it away back into his pack, looking back to the rest of us for one last assurance that everyone was ready. He took a deep breath and carefully lifted his hand to the handle. Silently, he counted to us to prepare, and once he hit three, Armin ripped open the door and rushed in with Sasha and Aurluo close behind.

 

The door drifted shut, but I had grabbed the handle before the lock could click. No sounds of imminent danger so far. I waited about ten more seconds before I crept in after them, silent as the grave and just in time to hear a scoff.

 

“Honestly.” It was a woman's voice. “You really disappoint me, Armin.”

 

I stayed low to the ground, sticking to the shadows behind a short couch that opened up to a bigger room filled with even more rejected furniture. Once I got a good look, I could see Armin glaring at Annie, and her staring right back with a bored expression and arms crossed. Sasha and Aurluo stood a few feet away from Armin on either side of him, tense and ready for battle with bows and- holy fuck, Aurluo’s got claws now. 

 

Whatever, pay attention. Armin stood just as rigid as the others and never took his eyes off of his sister, but Annie contradicted all three of them. She seemed… relaxed, almost. Annie flicked her hair away from her eyes and locked on with Armin once again to speak.

 

“You make it too easy to make yourself a target,” she droned. “It's not hard to sense your presence around here.”

 

“That was kind of the point,” Armin replied, eyes and shoulders still tense. “I wanted you to know I was here.”

 

“How bold of you,” Annie said, still bored. “Are you really that desperate to die?”

 

I couldn't see Armin’s face as I crept along the outer edges of the room, safely hidden behind more furniture, but the sound of his voice carried an anger and hurt that I was sadly growing used to.

 

“Are you that thirsty for blood; or were you just ordered to be that way?” Armin hissed, but then he took a breath and shifted back a step. “I'm not here looking for a fight,” he said lowly. “I'm here to make a deal.”

 

“A deal,” Annie scoffed, then gestured to the other two in the room. “With bodyguards?”

 

Armin ticked his head. “Can't be too careful.” Then, slowly, Armin lifted a hand to Annie as an offering. “Let's switch,” he said, far too quiet. “We can switch back and forget about each other.”

 

Annie sighed, a mixture of boredom and annoyance as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling. I took another step forward. Keep talking; just a little closer.

 

“You're not here to switch, Armin,” she said plainly, which stopped me in my tracks. “You're here because I wanted you here.” The others tensed, but Annie kept on. “Why do you think it was so easy to find me?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Sasha hissed, bow straining with one of her energy arrows aimed right at Annie's heart. “You never indicated this place!”

 

“ _ Marlow _ .” It was barely a whisper, barely breathed out in a horrified gasp as Armin’s eyes widened with realization. “You used him.”

 

Annie shifted her weight to her other foot. “It's easier for the target to come to you. I needed you and Marco here and I was tired of waiting. It's as simple as that.”

 

“But why?” Armin pleaded. “Why are you still after us? We just want-”

 

“You want to get in my way,” Annie interrupted. “You were right, though; I'd been hoping to get my powers back, along with the bonus I had tried to get from you before Marco so stupidly interrupted.”

 

She sounded slightly annoyed by this. It was the first bit of emotion she had shown since we got here, but that split second passed and Annie was back to being the stone-cold bitch I knew her to be. 

 

“At least now with you and the spell caster here, I can finish taking your powers for myself like originally planned.” Annie's eyes still stayed flat as she spoke. “It may have actually ended up better this way since now I can try for Marco’s magic too. I wouldn't have to worry about you interfering after that either. ‘Two birds, one stone’ or something along those lines.”

 

Before anyone could blink, roots shot out from the floor and charged after the team. Aurluo slashed at the plants with his claws and instantly dropped several pieces of wood and vine with every attack. Meanwhile, Sasha fired her arrow at Annie and cried out in anger as her shot was blocked by a thicker, much larger vine that grew up from the ground to save Annie, and consequently chase down Armin, who was desperately raising an ice wall. All of this happened within the span of a second, maybe two, but in the end, the plants wrapped tightly around both Sasha and Aurluo, while Armin was protecting himself from the same fate with a shield of ice encircling his body, swirling non-stop to keep the roots from touching him.

 

Annie watched from where she stood before, her expression still blank and her eyes empty. Armin glared back at her, furious and scared and distracted because he was going to lose to his sister again. This was the perfect time to act. 

 

I shoved my med kit to the small of my back and drew my knife, ready for battle. Without any further adieu, I jumped out of hiding and charged as silently as I could behind Annie. Everyone was too distracted by the fight to see me try and cut the bitch, even Annie; this is too easy-

 

“It's about time you showed up,  _ Jean Alec Kirstein _ .” Annie never even looked over her shoulder, but it didn't matter, because I was frozen on the spot. She finally turned to look at me and my wide eyes, arm raised with my blade in hand meant especially for her, and actually chuckled at the sight. “You really shouldn't put all of your information online.” She cocked a brow at me. “Drop the knife,  _ Jean _ .”

 

“Jean!” Armin screamed for me, even with the roots still trying to rip him to shreds, and stared in horror as my arm slowly dropped to my side. “Jean, no!”

 

I couldn't listen to him. I had to obey. Her voice echoed so sweetly over my name. Like a song. My knife needs to go away now, so I gently put it in my medical bag.

 

“There's a good boy,” Annie muttered, hardly impressed with my sudden obedience. “Now go find your friend Marco and bring him here. We have business to discuss.”

 

Annie turned back to face her brother in the fight, having won against the four of us without even breaking a sweat. Slowly, quietly, I stepped forward towards the exit behind the team.

 

“Jean please!” Armin begged, but the ice finally caved under his distress and a vine wrapped tightly around him, raising him high in the air. I could hear cracking, even from way back here, but still, he gasped out my name. 

 

“How upsetting,” Annie sighed, back still turned to me as I slowly made my way to the exit. “I really shouldn't have expected a better fight with you.” She finally nodded over her shoulder to me. “Hurry it up,  _ Jean _ , I'm not a patient woman at the moment.”

 

Sasha looked scared as I stepped closer, watching my every move. Aurluo seemed angry and growled at the vines holding him down tightly, but Armin- Armin looked like I had just killed a puppy. Both Sasha and Aurluo screamed at me as I walked, but Armin could only watch with tears in his eyes while I obeyed his sister.

 

I couldn't listen to Armin. I couldn't listen to any of the others, or even the fighting. I had to obey. I had to. Otherwise, I'd never have gotten as close as I did and surprised Annie with a needle to the neck.

 

“ _ What?!” _

 

Annie was trapped in a headlock between my arms, clawing at me and growling out an enraged scream as I injected as much tranquilizer into her neck as I could without killing her. Her eyes were wide and wild as she choked out her orders. “ _ Jean- Jean _ !”

 

I gripped her hair and yanked back without mercy to hiss in her ear. “ _ That's not my name, bitch.” _

 

With that, I reached into my med kit for an ice bomb, then threw it at her feet and held onto Annie as she struggled against the sedative. The ice grew quickly, climbing over her legs and mine, trapping us both in place. Already I could feel my toes going numb but I didn't care; Annie was just as trapped as I was. The seconds passed and it was only when the plants started shivering that I knew the medicine was working. Annie's connection was fading. Fast.

 

“Now, Armin!”

 

A blast of ice ripped apart the roots that had trapped Armin before, and he dropped to the ground with a breathless grunt. Moments later, Aurluo fell too with Sasha behind him, already chanting out the incantation in order to switch the siblings powers. Armin rushed forward on unsteady feet to his sister, who was still trying to scratch my eyes out despite the current lack of muscle control. Annie screamed and cursed at me, but my hand was already shoving gauze in her mouth to keep her from interfering with the spell any further, and I could see the look of pure malice glowing behind her eyes.

 

Wait. Scratch that, her eyes are actually glowing.

 

When I look up to Armin, still trying to make his way over, his eyes are glowing as well, and little lights began flickering around the three of us as the spell continued on. Magic swirled around Sasha as her voice carried over the sound of screaming wind that wildly rustled Armin’s hair, and wove in between the lights and wind and magic as the curse grew in strength.

 

Armin struggled to step up as magic seeped out of him from his skin and flew through the air, but he trudged on. In my arms, Annie went limp, finally succumbing to the sedative as her own magic was sucked out of her, but it was only then when I looked down to her that I saw it. Magic. My magic. Dormant or not, it was being sucked out of my skin as well. 

 

My head grew dizzy and my body felt heavy, but before anything else could be done, Armin finally made it to his sister. With whatever magic he had left, Armin shattered the ice at mine and Annie's feet and shoved me away with a force I had no idea he had. Armin wrapped his arms around his sister as I slid along the floor, gasping when the spell removed itself from me, but I was still so tingly all over.

 

Another minute, and still, Sasha’s voice boomed through the room as though she were a giant. The force of it rattled the walls and the furniture flew back away from the power of the spell, with magic and light and wind still swirling violently around the siblings in the center of the room. With a crack of blinding light, it all exploded over the two and blew everyone and everything out of its path.

 

My ears were ringing and my eyes were still burning from the sudden flash, but as I found my bearings again, I could see Sasha and Aurluo picking themselves up from the aftermath of the blast as well from all away across the room. I noticed that I had been blown back against the foot of an old, rotted couch. About ten feet away from where Armin had pushed me. Oh, shit.

 

“Armin-” 

 

I stood up a little too quickly and found some new aches that hadn't been there before. As quick as I could, I crawled over to the still bodies in the floor and ignored the pain. A glance at Annie told me she was out cold, but I didn't care about her. My sore limbs dragged me over to Armin and I plopped down gracelessly atop him. He was warm. Good.

 

“Armin!” He groaned against the little smacks I gave his cheek. Even better. “Armin, wake up!”

 

“Jean?” His voice was craggy and dry, like he hadn't spoken in years, and when he finally opened his bleary eyes, I could actually breathe again. “Jean… Annie, she- she knew you- she… you're not…?”

 

“No.” I shook my head. “She never had me.” Then I nodded to him. “What about you; did it work?”

 

Suddenly, light sparks back into Armin’s foggy eyes but that's not necessarily a good thing. His eyes were full of fear and apprehension at the thought that maybe, just  _ maybe _ this didn't work. Slowly, he turned to look at the dirt floor beside us, eyes still full of fear. It took a few seconds, and at the edge of the room, both Sasha and Aurluo watched in nervous silence as Armin finally lifted his arm and carefully dropped it on the ground.

 

Golden light beamed around his fingernails as he stretched his hand out to the dirt. One by one, little blossoms of tiny, wild daisies popped up from the ground and flourished under the sun-like warmth of Armin’s magic. A sob made its way out of Armin, and when I looked back, I could see the tears flowing freely past his smile.

 

“Welcome back,” he whispered lovingly. “I missed you too.”

.

.

.

 

So, apparently, Aurluo is a vampire. I can't say that I'm entirely surprised but, at the same time, I half expected him to be at  _ least _ a full-fledged demon or something. He acts enough like one that his big reveal was kind of a let down. That being said, it's pretty nice having a powerful monster with super strength on your side in order to carry one dead-weight hostage and their equally incapacitated brother without breaking a sweat.

 

Getting to the rendezvous point up front was scary easy as we ran through the empty halls to the front of the building. The closer we got, the more I could hear, and I certainly didn't like what I heard. We practically blew up a sandstorm as we skidded around the corner and found what I had been dreading.

 

Witches throwing spells at my friends, tainted golems clumsily bumbling about and trying to crush or corner their enemies, people screaming left and right. Fires burned from abandoned spells and walls crumbled to the ground from previous hits, people with weapons struggled to hold back two or three opponents at a time as they were  _ clearly _ outnumbered, but still carried on to fight for their next breath. It truly was a battlefield. 

 

Sasha screamed out to our team and charged forward into the fray, alerting the others of our success and gathering all she could for our quick and tactical retreat. Aurluo followed close behind her, but the sight of a fight in the corner of my eye caught my attention, and I couldn't stop my relief. 

 

He was alive.

 

I ran towards Marco as he battled against four other witches with his staff like a mother fucking boss. Oh yeah, I can definitely tap that.

 

Marco swirled his staff around his head, the runes glowing as the magic he infused it with spread into his next hit and practically electrocuted two opponents one blow at a time. Marco spun to use his momentum for another attack against the third and rammed the side of his staff across the witch’s chest and abdomen. The moment it hit, more magic burst from the staff and sent the chick flying, throwing the unfortunate witch a good few hundred feet over the building’s roof. 

 

The last witch came at Marco from behind for a sneak attack, but Marco was too quick for him, and shoved the end of his staff into the guy's stomach and shoved him to the ground. In a split second, the guy convulsed on the end of Marco’s stick as magic was forced into him, burning him up from the inside out, until the sparks finally ended, and the guy lay still.

 

… Okay, so maybe I'm not so turned on anymore. 

 

Marco yanked his staff away from the witch with a scowl and wiped the blood dripping down his forehead with the back of his hand, but as he turned, he saw me running towards him. Confusion filled his eyes for a moment before he shook his head because  _ of course _ I'd show up, and a smile lit his lips as he charged towards me, ready to retreat. To be honest, I'm ready too. 

 

Marco yelled for Connie just a few feet away from him, and the bald monkey turned away from a hard won fight, spitting blood on the crumbled remains of the golem he had destroyed as he left to meet us. Or at least, he tried to. 

 

“Connie!” 

 

Everything happened so fast that I don't really know what happened. I was too scared to see anything else. Connie spat dirt out as I climbed off of him and backed away as much as I could on my hands but I wasn't quick enough.

 

The beast charged at me and sank its jaws deep into my neck. I screamed. Oh, God did I scream because it was happening again- I was dying all over again! It's shaking me, ripping me to shreds and no one can hear me screaming- they're  _ laughing, oh God, they're laughing! I’m being torn apart! Eyes! Claws! Teeth! Blood-  _ my  _ blood- I have to protect myself! Blood, growling, ripping, shredding, pain, help me, it burns, stop, please, stop, I can't breathe, help me, it burns so much, please, I can’t get away, help me, helpmehelpmehelpme-! _

 

The best I can manage is a gurgle now as the beast rips my screams right out of my throat one bloody bite at a time. I can see its burning eyes melting into blue and brown as Marco comes into sight, his hands desperately grasping my face and glowing an even brighter blue as I still try to scream around the blood. Around us, color bursts into the air and surrounds us until there's nothing left, and then, everything goes dark.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will never, ever, ever get tired of cliff-hangers. It binds the curious to me. Mwahaha.
> 
> What, oh, what has Jean gotten himself into this time- and what is his real name? Only time will tell (if I'd get off my lazy bum and write the thirtieth chapter already, jeez, Scribbles, get your life together).
> 
> Tell me what you think! I love talking with you guys :]


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could I have let this happen again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is a seizure in this chapter, blood, screaming and some fighting. If you're at all uncomfortable, please stop and contact me for a clean version. Take care of yourselves, ily too much.
> 
>  
> 
> Still on my phone, still unbetad. Enjoy!

\---

**Chapter 25**

\---

 

“Jean!”

 

I knew this was a bad idea.

 

“Jean please!”

 

I messed up. _Again_.

 

“Jean, wake up!”

 

I should never have dragged him into this world.

 

“Jean!”

 

Jean still isn't responding even after the skip, leaving the nightmare curse far behind at the warehouse. I shook his shoulders, begged him back, even slapped his face, but Jean remained motionless on the ground, eyes staring unseeing into the night sky.

 

My tears want to fall so badly, but I can't give up yet; I can still try to bring him back. The scratches on his neck can wait, it's his mind that needs fixing. Magic courses through my veins as I gather up enough healing in my hands to try and pull him back from wherever it was he was sent, fingers already reaching for his temples.

 

“Stop!”

 

The desperation in Armin’s voice catches me off guard and I falter, but my magic remains. A quick peek over my shoulder revealed Armin scrambling out of Connie’s grasp to fall to the ground, causing Eren to bristle and growl, but my attention stayed with the witch trying so desperately to reach me. Oh. I had forgotten.

 

It was Armin who stopped the witch from cursing anyone else. It was Armin who had practically ripped himself from some random vampire’s support in order to come to Jean's rescue, only to fall short when his exhaustion took over and he tumbled at Connie’s feet, with Eren not too far behind. They barely made it to the skip in time because Connie and I were so frantic to get Jean to safety, but I think- I think Armin was just as desperate to get him out of the battlefield as the rest of us. Seeing the panic in Armin’s eyes only furthers my theory.

 

“Marco wait- don't touch him!” Armin crawled closer to me, almost dragging himself along the ground. “Look.” He pointed to Jean. “Look at his eyes. I've seen this before; we can't touch him!”

 

My own eyes fly back to Jean’s beautiful golden ones, but what I see instead is not what I had been expecting. Magic of several different colors and auras swirled around in between his iris and pupils like slithering snakes. What was even more revolting was the sight of my own magic right along with the rest.

 

“ _Over exposure_ ,” I breathed in a petrified whisper. In an instant, the magic I had gathered up in my hands fizzled out and I dropped them to the ground to lean closer to Jean. This is awful. Please, _please_ don't let this be happening. Not to him. Not to Jean.

 

“Hate to do this to you guys, but we've got company.” Connie hunched his shoulders to the few tainted golems that had followed us through the skip. I guess one of the witches must have tracked us down somehow.

 

Eren growls at our enemies as well and launches into battle with two of the creatures at once, tearing down the closest foe while Connie is already smashing his hammer through a clay arm. There are still three more golems to fight, but neither myself nor Armin can go after them. Armin is still weak from the switch and I just can't leave them behind to fend for themselves.

 

“Go!” Armin screams. “I've got Jean; you go and help the others!”

 

“Armin, I can't-”

 

“Yes you can!” Armin draped an arm around Jean as his eyes scorched through to my very soul with a power I had long forgotten. “Go out there and defend us; defend him!” He snatched up Jean’s face for emphasis. “Protect him, Marco!”

 

Crap. He's right, I can at least keep the monsters away, give Jean and Armin time to get to safety. I let my fear overwhelm me again. I have to trust this will work.

 

Quickly, I lay a hand over Armin’s shoulder and give a tight squeeze. “Get somewhere safe,” I tell him. “Yell if you need me, alright?”

 

Armin nods but he's still frowning. “I got it, just go!”

 

The scowl leaves and is replaced with terror as the ground shakes beneath us and a shadow falls over our skin. I turned around just in time to see a golem the size of a car readying an attack with its hammer held high overhead. Before it can swing, I rushed out a shield and shoved it clean through the center of the clay monster, instantaneously crumbling the beast to utter dust.

 

“Go, Armin!”

 

I shot up and charged for the next golem, trying my hardest to lead it away. My staff glowed in my hands as I prepared for my next attack; this time on a smarter puppet trying to take down its weaker opponents, but I won't let it. I need to protect them. I need to keep Jean and Armin safe.

 

I won't fail again.

 

This golem is bigger, and it takes some work to take down, but Connie had finished with the one he had wrestled with first and was charging up behind my opponent. With a loud war-cry, he shattered the creature’s heel with his hammer, allowing me to finish it off with a bit more force than strictly necessary. Further off in the field, I can see where Eren finished off his own golems and a breath of relief filled my lungs. Until I heard the roar.

 

Idiot! Three; there were three extra golems after the others started fighting, I lost one! My feet practically fly me in the direction of our fallen friends, back to the drop sight, back to Armin and Jean. I can hardly breathe as I run, I'm so exhausted but I can't let up; I can't mess up again.

 

Before me I can see the golem slamming down on the trunk of a tree, beat after terrible beat. I screamed at it, anger coursing through my veins right alongside my magic, and jump high up onto its back for a hit of my own. The monster roared again, angered and in pain, and tried to turn in order to grab me. Eren and Connie were too fast for it though, and quickly disposed of our last enemy. Harshly, I dropped heavy to the ground as it crumbled, barely able to stand or breathe. Armin and Jean were nowhere in sight.

 

“Armin?” I called once I caught some air. “Where are you?”

 

No… _No_ … I did it again… _not again!_

 

“Armin!”

 

The sound of snapping wood crackled on behind me and when I turned around, the trunk of the tree that the golem had been pounding on was opening up right down the middle. Soon, Armin can be seen panting, still clutching a limp Jean to his chest with every bit of strength he has. My knees give out with a sigh of relief. I can breathe. They're safe. They're alive.

 

My emotions are still running high even with this good news and I'm so desperate to crumble right now, but there's no time. “This place is comprised,” I say instead. I hardly recognize my own voice. “We need to clear out before they send reinforcements.”

 

Armin nods agreement, still trying to steady his breathing and clinging onto his friend with all that he has. I don't think he even realizes he's still doing it; not until I move to pick up Jean from his arms. Eren is right behind me, already sniffling around Armin to see if he's alright before easily lifting the small man into his arms. Nobody says a word as we cross the field to the school, but Armin never let's his eyes fall away from Jean.

 

And neither do I.

.

.

.

 

“What happened?”

 

Hanji doesn't even let us all make it through the door before they're already clawing at Jean. Carefully, I lay him down on a couch near the entrance and step aside as Hanji takes over.

 

The others stand aside as well, not wanting to be in the way. Eren carefully lowered Armin to a nearby cot before leaving the room to change, chancing a glance at Jean over his shoulder as he left. Meanwhile, Sasha walked in from a different door followed by an equally bloody vampire who gracelessly dropped an unconscious Annie to the floor, and was scowling harshly at Armin as though he had caused world hunger. Instantly, Sasha reached out to inspect Connie and his injuries as the vampire headed straight over to comfort a woman with bandages over her neck from our recent battle while she watched in horror as Hanji tumbled to their knees at Jean’s side.

 

Hanji works quickly to check over Jean, but they're panicking. It's evident in their lost breaths and it's heartbreaking to see Hanji lose it like this, but what captures my attention more is the meowing.

 

It's long, rushed, panicked and getting closer. In absolute horror, I watch as Sina charges in through the door and bolts right to Jean’s still form on the couch. She's meowing to him, begging him to wake up, to move, to do _something_ other than just lie there, but he doesn't listen. He can't. And then she turns to me.

 

“I'm sorry,” I whisper as she spews her venom at me. She's meowing more harshly now, angry with me for not protecting him, for letting this happen. She's so upset that she can't even speak; it's all a string of painful, angered meows pointed right at me. All I can do is take it. “I'm so sorry.”

 

“What _happened?!”_ Hanji screams again. They've almost lost it at this point, and I wouldn't be surprised if they charged after me any second now, but Moblit rushes in at the sound of people returning from battle and immediately takes over Jean. Hanji scrambles a few inches away to let Moblit press his fingertips to Jean's temples, and all at once, the room erupts again.

 

“Don't!”

 

“You can't use-”

 

“I'm not,” Moblit grumbles. “I could tell before I walked in. He reeks of magic.”

 

The room is tense as Moblit closes his eyes to concentrate on his patient. Sina has curled up on the back of the couch to watch over her precious companion, Armin is still staring with wide, hollow eyes, Hanji can't let go of Jean’s hand, Connie can't even look at him; and me? I can't move. I can't even breathe. So when a new man comes charging into the room radiating with fury, pretty much nobody else can either.

 

The man was small, but his aura filled the room entirely, almost overwhelming as he stomped into the center of the room. He glowered at Annie, still on the floor but stopped quite suddenly once he caught sight of Jean, and his eyes widened. For a moment, it almost looked like fear, until a dark scowl covered his features all over again. Hanji looked to him with a pleading expression and was about to speak before the man spoke over them.

 

“What the hell is this?” he hissed.

 

Hanji shook their head, almost to tears. “Levi-”

 

 _“What the hell is this?!”_ The man, apparently named Levi, had a voice that boomed over everything and made everyone flinch from its ferocity. “What is he doing here?”

 

“Levi, please-”

 

“No!” Levi screamed. “We had a deal.”

 

“I know,” Hanji said, broken, defeated. They dropped their eyes to the floor, definitely in tears now. “This wasn't-”

 

“No, it never is, is it?” Levi went on. “This is exactly why I told you to leave him out of this!”

 

“Pardon me.” Everyone turned to Moblit, still sitting with his hands to Jean’s temples and furrowing his brow in concentration. “This is rather difficult as it is. I'd appreciate it if I could get some quiet.”

 

Suddenly a shriek of pain made its way through the room as another pair returned from battle, fresh out of a skip. Levi cursed, and without a second glance, snatched up Annie from the floor and ran out to meet his injured men. Moblit opened his eyes with a huff at the sound of their agony and turned to Hanji.

 

“Hanji, go help the others,” he said, voice softer than before. Hanji bit their lip and closed their eyes, fingers tightening around Jean’s hand until Moblit laid his hand over Hanji’s shoulder. “Do what you can for those you can help. It's our job, remember?”

 

Hanji’s eyes were still closed and they were sniffling a bit, but after a second, they nodded, wiped away the last of their tears and stood to leave. They didn't even look over their shoulder.

 

Moblit doesn't even wait for their footsteps to recede before he's back at it with Jean. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers back to Jean’s temples but raised his voice to be heard through the room.

 

“If you're a spectator then I need you to be quiet. No moving, no speaking, no magic; is that clear?” He accepted the silence as his answer and blew out a heavy breath.

 

Minutes pass as Moblit works. No one moves, no one speaks and they sure as heck don't breathe. No one wants to interrupt the medic while he works on Jean. No one wants to give up the hope that something can be done. No one wants to remember that over exposure usually doesn't have a happy ending. No one wants to bring it up either, because no one wanted it to happen to Jean. No one.

 

I close my eyes and try to breathe, try not to panic, but the thought of Jean being stuck like this for the rest of his life-

 

I have to stop before I burst into tears. I can't think about that right now. I have to hold on.

 

“What happened?”

 

It took me a moment to realize that Moblit was actually speaking to us. Actually, I think we all did, but we were just too scared to talk at first. Quietly, I cleared my throat and answered.

 

“It was a nightmare curse,” I explained. “A witch got him as we were leaving.”

 

“It was my fault,” Connie interrupted, still staring at the ground instead of Sasha. “He took the hit for me. I got careless because we were leaving; I should have been watching my back.”

 

“He’d have never forgiven himself if you got hit; otherwise he wouldn't have jumped in,” I consoled. “Besides, I was the one who went and used my own magic to try to stop it-”

 

“Right as I threw the skipping stone-”

 

“Enough,” Moblit cut us both off. “Taking the blame won't help him in the end. Just get over it and do what you can to fix it now.” He took another breath and adjusted his fingers. “I can see the curse and your magic but I can't find- oh, wait, there it is. Ooh-” Moblit grimaced but stayed connected with Jean as he jolted on the couch. “Whoops.”

 

We all watched in horror as Jean’s body jolted again, his back jumping off of the couch and mercilessly convulsing.

 

“What's happening?” Armin shot up from his cot. “Moblit, what-”

 

“Shut up, let him ride it out,” Moblit hissed. The medic was still trying to stay connected with Jean as he seized on the couch, but Jean was jerking around so harshly that it turned out to be a difficult task. I took a step forward but Moblit suddenly screamed. “Don't touch him!”

 

I froze on the spot, and for two and a half more torturous minutes, Jean and Moblit struggled to keep Jean’s jolting body under control. Moblit followed Jean's movements as best he could, keeping in place as Jean fought against his seizure until finally, Jean's back arched high off of the cushions and he shuddered back down to the couch. Moblit let loose a sigh, more of exhaustion than relief, but readjusted his fingers once again so that they weren't pressed so tightly to Jean's skull.

 

“Rest now,” Moblit muttered, and miraculously, Jean's eyes fluttered closed for the first time since we got back. Slowly, Moblit opened his own eyes and carefully took his hands away from Jean to let him do as the medic had commanded, turning to address us. “That was my fault.”

 

“What was that?” The woman with the vampire asked. Her voice was rough and scratchy, barely there at all through what sounded like a considerable amount of pain, but her eyes stayed steady on Moblit. “What did you do?”

 

“Stop talking if you want to save your voice,” Moblit sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I found the skip magic. It was hiding up until I exposed it, and then the other two stronger magics…” He opened his eyes and pursed his lips to find the right way to tell us. “Well, they ate it. So that's what that was.”

 

“What do you mean ‘ate it’?” I asked. “Ate what?”

 

The medic rolled back his shoulders and popped his back with one more sigh before answering. “Magic is alive,” he explained. “It's a living being that has its own form and personality.” He jerked a thumb at a now sleeping Jean. “The skip magic was pretty weak and knew it would be devoured the minute the other three found it. It would have survived if I hadn't exposed it.”

 

“Wait a minute, three?” Armin asked. “Where did the third one come from?” Moblit shook his head, causing Armin to lose all color in his face. “Was it the switch?”

 

“Oh, that's right,” the vampire piped, completely void of empathy. “He held down Annie in the middle of the spell. He must have been exposed to that as well.”

 

“But I pushed him out.” Armin wasn't speaking to anybody. He was too far lost in his memories, fear lacing every word. “I pushed him away; I made sure of it-”

 

“It doesn't look like anybody's magic that I've seen,” Moblit thankfully interrupted Armin’s break down. “I can check around but this third magic is new.”

 

Armin took a quivering breath, trying not to fall apart. “Any idea where it came from?”

 

Moblit shook his head again. “I don't know. But, I do know that he's more responsive now that he's got less magic in his system.”

 

Connie lifted his head for once, actually hopeful. “So you can fix this? You can bring him back!”

 

“No.” Moblit killed whatever lightness any of us had in our chests with the heaviness of his expression. “It's too much for him. That little fit he just had was due to the weakest of the magic- imagine what would happen to him if I were to rip out another.” He shook his head. “That's too much damage. The best thing to do for him is to let them sort themselves out. Each magic is trying to take him over, and they're all too territorial or protective of him to kill him. If I go in there and rip them all out, no one will be able to bring him back.”

 

“But there's still a chance.” My voice is so small, I don't even notice everyone looking at me after I've said it. I look up from the floor to catch Moblit’s eyes. “He's going to come back. Right?”

 

It's dead silent as I stare at Moblit. All of us are hoping for an answer we want to hear, but the longer he considers it, the more dread fills the room. I swallowed as Moblit took a breath, finally answering with hard eyes.

 

“It is possible,” he said lowly. “But it's going to take time… and I don't know how long that would be.”

 

I swallowed again. “Meaning what?”

 

Moblit never took his eyes off mine. “Years,” he said quietly. “He could be an old man by the time he wakes up. _If_ he wakes up. It all depends on how he handles the magic fighting inside of him. Until then, he's comatose.”

 

No one moves. No one speaks. No one got the answer that they wanted.

 

I can't stand this.

 

“I need a bed,” I say suddenly.

 

Moblit looks confused. “What-”

 

“If he's going to be stuck like this, then he should at least be comfortable.” My voice is quiet but thankfully steady as I walk.

 

My feet carry me over to Jean's side and I only stare for just a moment before I carefully pick him up. Moblit sighs yet again but he leads me out of the room nevertheless with Sina close at my heel. It's still silent even after we walk out.

.

.

.

 

The room Moblit gave me was small, but it was private and the bed was soft. That's all I really cared about. I had made sure Jean was comfortable under the covers and had the scratches on his neck fixed before I let Moblit treat my injuries. After that, Moblit shoved me into the room's bathroom to clean up.

 

I was fresh from the shower, now rid of all the blood and dirt and grime and felt more human again, but it came at the cost of leaving Jean alone for too long. Steam flooded the room when I opened the door but I stopped short at the sight of Armin sitting on the bed, with Sina watching him closely from the pillow next to Jean's head.

 

Armin looked to me but quickly turned back to his fingers in Jean’s hair when he realized that I was standing in nothing but a towel. He gave me the courtesy of staying that way as I rummaged through the wardrobe Moblit had said was free to use.

 

“Is there anything in there that would fit him?” Armin asked.

 

I finished yanking on a shirt before I dug around for Jean next. “I wanted to clean up before I got to him. Didn't want anything else of mine to contaminate him.”

 

I settled on a pair of soft pants and a long sleeve shirt and turned slowly to offer them to Armin before I left for the bathroom again. There's a small tin under the sink and a cabinet with some washcloths that I can use for Jean. By the time I came back with some warm water, Armin had already worked Jean’s shirt off, but he stopped at the sight of amber sitting over Jean’s chest from the necklace I had given him.

 

With wide, blue eyes, Armin turned to me, unsure. “Is this-”

 

“No,” I shook my head, trying to absently stretch my sleeve up to my palm. “It's new. Stronger.” I scoffed at the thought and sat down on the bed with a sigh. “A lot of good it did him.”

 

I began working on cleaning Jean’s skin, but for all the work I did to hide my wrist, Armin still grabbed onto it. He didn't even need to lift my sleeve to feel the cord wrapped around my arm. The cord he had given me long ago.

 

“Marco, why do you still have this?” Armin asked.

 

I can't look at him, so I shook my hand free of his grasp and continued working on the blood under Jean's fingernails where he had scratched into his neck. Old scars glare at me from underneath new cuts and bandages, blatantly pointing out Jean's worst nightmare for all to see.The sight of Jean flailing on the ground catches me off guard, and I was so distracted by the memory that the sound of Jean’s phantom screams easily filled my head.

 

Jean lay before me, sleeping peacefully, but the memory of him saving Connie- of him bursting into black flame until the curse could soak into his skin, of the terror in his eyes as he saw his worst fears and fought against what no one else could see, what wasn't really there, crying and clawing at his neck, of him screaming like death itself was chasing him down-

 

Armin brought me back with a firm grasp to my shaking hand. Air is hard to come by, but the deep blue of Armin’s eyes helps me to remember where I am, and I'm able to swallow down my fears. The scene is gone now, but Jean still has to battle with the curse as well as my own magic that I so desperately forced into him. Magic that I had begged to make him stop screaming. Magic that I always end up misusing somehow.

 

“I did it again,” I muttered, closing my eyes in shame. “I can't keep messing up like this.”

 

Armin frowned but held on tighter to my hand. “Marco, what are you talking about?”

 

I yanked my hand away from his and dropped the washcloth back into the tin, not meeting Armin’s eyes. “I tried to stop it and I messed up again. I hurt him. Just like before with-”

 

 _You_.

 

I shook my head. “I can't keep doing this.”

 

“Marco.”

 

I flinched at the harshness of Armin’s voice and turned away again, but Armin tugged on my sleeve until I met with his eyes.

 

“Stop it.” His voice sounds so wrong when he's angry. “You're right; you did hurt me, but it wasn't because you messed up a spell.” The fire in his eyes burns brighter and I can't look away. “Jean's not going to hate you for trying to save him but he will have something to say if you give up and run away again.” Armin’s nails dug into my skin as he grit out his next words. “ _That's_ where you messed up, Marco. Nowhere else.”

 

“I didn't give up,” I murmured and yanked my arm away again to stand up, turning my back to Armin. “All I wanted was for you to be safe-”

 

“And all _I_ wanted was for you to come back home!” Armin told me, causing me to turn back to him. He stood up as well to step closer to me but kept his distance, his eyes wide and hurt. “ _I waited for you_ ,” he whispered harshly. “I waited for you and you never came back!”

 

“I didn't think-”

 

“No you didn't!” Armin shouted, then shrugged out his shoulders. “What, you thought that I'd be mad that you tried to stop Annie? That you tried to save me?” His eyes glistened with unfallen tears and rage. “I never felt that way! Not after what you did for me!” He shook his head at me. “I was worried! And then I was furious because you never came back! You never came back and left me on my own because you were too scared to face what had happened!”

 

“I left because I didn't want to hurt you again!” I shouted right back.

 

“Well you did!” Armin snarled.

 

“Not like that!” I took a step forward to stand over Armin. “I _never_ gave up on you. I couldn't watch Annie get her hands on you because of me. I couldn't let anyone get hurt because I couldn't protect them, because even _with_ my voice, I still couldn't stop her from hurting you-”

 

“But you stopped her from killing me!” Armin sobbed.

 

All at once, the fires burned out of both of us and left us both standing in the middle of the room panting. Armin kept his tear stained eyes on mine for as long as he could before he turned away, wiping away a tear. The sight of it, of my beautiful, happy Armin reduced to tears again, because of _me_ … It breaks something inside of me every time.

 

“Armin.” My voice is softer now that the fight has left me. “I never wanted to give you up… I stayed away because I couldn't watch you get hurt again… I loved you too much.”

 

Armin nodded to the bedside dresser, holding himself close. “I loved you too,” he whispered brokenly. Then, he sniffed and lifted his head, squaring his shoulders to face me. “So. Are you going to make the same mistake again with Jean?”

 

I shook my head, expression solemn, but honest. “No. I've learned my lesson.”

 

Armin nodded again, face controlled into a stern gaze but his eyes could never meet mine. “Good. That's all I could have asked for.”

 

With that, Armin stepped past me and left the room, not even looking back. The room feels empty now, especially with Jean in the state he's in, but all I can do is sigh. Silently, I cleaned Jean up and dressed him in softer clothes before I turned off the light, tucked Jean into bed and curled up beside him to hold him close. Then, and only then, did I finally let my tears fall.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New year! I'm sorry I've been away so long but I haven't had much time to write. I just started ch27 and figured it was enough of a head start to post another chapter and Surprise! Pov change! 
> 
> I may or may not have been a little excited about that and the fact that we're getting to the meat of the story that brought this whole thing to life. 
> 
> Plus: back story, yaaay. I told you Marco and Armin had a history, I've been dying to write that scene since the beginning, haha
> 
> I hope you liked it. Tell me what you think, I love talking with you guys :)


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good news, bad news then good news again. Oh brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are drug and high references before Jean has a bit of an attack again.
> 
> I know it's been a while, I'm sorry, but stuff has been kinda crazy lately and writing or motivation is hard. Have a nice, long chapter to help fill the void and come talk to me after because why not

 

\---

**Chapter 26**

\---

 

My hand snapped out instantly to snatch whatever it was that had touched Jean in our sleep.

 

“Relax,” a voice whispered. “It's just me.”

 

Slowly slumber fell away from me and I was able to fully open my eyes. My hand still held onto someone's wrist a little too tightly, but when I followed the arm attached to it, I found Hanji smiling softly at me. With a quiet apology, I let go of their wrist and tried to sit up, only to fail to exhaustion once again.

 

“It's fine,” Hanji muttered. “It's better if we don't move him too much anyways.”

 

I tilted my head slightly to stare down at Jean, still calmly sleeping on my pillow and breathing evenly with Sina curled up over his neck and shoulder. When I looked back to Hanji, their fond expression was doing everything it could to hold back the tears. Then, they took a breath and shook their head before digging into a bag sitting next to them. 

 

“Thank you for staying with him all night,” they said, pulling out an I.V. bag. “I would have worried if he'd been on his own. Especially without a kit.”

 

I shrugged, tilting up to stretch but still comfortably close to Jean. “He's a fighter. He'd have been alright on his own. Even if it did scare the crap out of us to let him do it.”

 

Hanji chuckled humorlessly. “I know.”

 

No more words were spoken as Hanji hung an I.V. pouch to a hook along the wall and laid out everything Jean would need. I watched in silence as they worked, concentrating on what they could do to help their old friend. It reminded me that this was all that Hanji  _ could  _ do. 

 

Without any inclination, Hanji couldn’t even see the magic swirling behind Jean’s eyes. It must have been so hard being unable to do anything, not being able to know how to fix something when that's all you ever do, not even being able to see what was wrong even if you  _ could _ fix it… It sounds downright horrible if you ask me.

 

“How's it going with Annie?” I asked, hoping to get Hanji’s mind on what they were able to accomplish for the mission, at least.

 

“She's stubborn,” they said. “Not really surprised considering who we're dealing with but, even weakened from the switch, she's still able to keep herself from talking.” Hanji shook their head. “No matter the patient, each and every person we've had to use our potions on has broken within a few hours.” They turned their eyes to me. “She hasn't said a word since she woke up. I can't imagine what she's feeling right now.”

 

I nodded agreement. Truth and speech potions were extremely powerful, and forced their users to speak truthfully and openly as obviously advertised. Personally, I've had the unfortunate experience of having them used on me, and learned firsthand how it felt to try and lie or stay silent. It was… not very pleasant.

 

Hanji merely shook their head, having stopped working to grumble at the ground. “If she doesn't tell us anything about the Titans then we did all that work for very little gain.” They raised their eyes so suddenly to me that I flinched back. “Granted, getting her to leave Jean alone was definitely worth it but, a lot of people have died because of this.” Their gaze went faint and distant as their voice drifted away. “Catching Annie was supposed to get us closer to stopping all the bombs and the killing and…”

 

The overexposure. 

 

Hanji’s eyes drifted over Jean as we both thought of what they couldn't say out loud. Instead, they snorted and flailed their hands in frustration and anger. “I mean, who does that? A bunch of assholes, that's who!”

 

Without even thinking, I reached out until my hand rested over theirs. Quite suddenly, the anger left and Hanji paused to look at me with a polite smile, as though they were asking me if they could do anything for me. It made me smile back.

 

“It’s going to be okay,” I say softly, nodding to Jean. “He’s too stubborn to quit.”

 

Hanji laughed wetly and when their eyes caught in the light, I could see the shine of unshed tears. “You’ve got that right,” they sniffed. “Jean could argue that clouds were green and win with his attitude.”

 

“So he’s halfway there,” I chuckled, smiling brighter when Hanji did too. “Now all he’s got to do is convince that magic to get out of dodge and wake his lazy butt up. No big deal.” I looked down to gently poke Jean in the chest. “Hey. You. We’re waiting.”

 

A real, genuine laugh made its way out of Hanji that time, and when they looked up, the shine was gone. “You’ve got to antagonize him a little bit more if you want to get a reaction,” they grinned. “He’d never back down from a challenge.”

 

“You’re absolutely right, Hanj,” I say, then go back to poking Jean in the chest while Hanji goes about wiping the back of Jean’s hand with an alcohol swab. “You. Yeah, you. Wake up or else.”

 

“Or else Eren gets to keep all of your Kit-Kats,” Hanji snickered while they stuck the I.V. into Jean’s skin. The moment it was in, Jean’s eyes opened up. 

 

“Holy shit!” Hanji’s eyes widened in shock, the both of us too stunned and too scared to move before Hanji sat up on their knees. “Jean? Jean, can you hear me? Ren!”

 

“Hanji,” I stopped them from tapping his cheek. “His eyes…” I couldn’t look Hanji in the eyes as I broke their heart. “He still has magic in his eyes.”

 

The tension of excitement and hope wilted out of Hanji’s body, but before they could grow even more despondent, Jean turned his head to the I.V. in his hand. Sina moved out of the way as Jean’s empty eyes studied the needle, and slowly, lethargically, he reached over with his other hand to try and pull it out, but Hanji and I were there to stop him.

 

“You need it, Jean,” I told him. “It needs to stay.”

 

There was no expression, no reaction or acknowledgement to my words, but Jean’s hand left his I.V. alone after that, and he carefully laid back down in bed, staring up unseeing at the ceiling. Hanji’s eyes stayed wide- I don’t think they even blinked since Jean woke up- but quickly scrambled to their feet and backed out of the door, calling for Moblit and leaving me alone with Jean, who still laid motionless on the bed. My own eyes stayed trained on Jean, but a snort couldn’t help but force its way out.

 

“You must really love Kit-Kats.”

 

It didn’t take long for Moblit to come barging through the door with Hanji, and I backed away from the bed to give the medic the space he needed, holding Sina in my arms. He quickly placed his fingers over Jean’s temples and closed his eyes, taking a moment to breathe before searching Jean’s subconscious. It was tense, the minutes passing by slowly as Moblit searched.

 

“What did you do?” Moblit asked.

 

“Nothing,” I answered, slightly miffed at the edge in his voice. “All we did was sleep.”

 

“We talked to him,” Hanji supplied. “He woke up when I put the I.V. in.”

 

“And he actually felt it,” Moblit hummed at the answer, a concentrated frown over his face. Eventually, Moblit opened his eyes and sat up from his crouch. “The magic is still there,” he said lowly. “But his body is fighting to wake up and go back to normal. Something helped to remind him that he’s not a full hostage.”

 

“Something like what?” Hanji asked, looking between the three of us. “Like, physical contact? Verbal interaction?”

 

“That definitely helps,” Moblit said, still studying Jean. “He may not be as hopeless as we thought.”

 

Hanji screeched out a laugh as they slapped their hands over Moblit’s cheeks and held him there. “Moblit, that’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me!” They then promptly pushed a wet kiss to Moblit’s nose. “I knew I liked you for something!”

 

“Hanji, please!” Moblit struggled to get away from Hanji’s grip, but they held on to shower him with even more kisses. “Stop!”

 

“You’re right!” Hanji suddenly shot up straight and set their eyes to Jean. “He needs it more than you do!”

 

It took both Moblit and I about eight minutes before we could pry Hanji and their lips off of Jean and out of the room, and by then, they had caused so much of a ruckus that some of the tenants rooming nearby had even come out to find out what was going on. 

 

“He’s awake!” Hanji shouted, running and laughing a little on the maniacal side down the halls. “He’s awake and he needs cuddles!”

.

.

.

 

Moblit replaced the bandages over Jean's neck and inspected the magic swarming inside of him once again before leaving. Hanji had spread the news about Jean and his need for contact so quickly that it wasn't a surprise when they burst into the room with breakfast and an organized list of people to offer what Hanji had called “cuddle time.”

 

“As much as I'd love to keep him all day, I do have an actual job to do,” Hanji said with a hint of disappointment. “But, Armin is still healing as well as Eren so they’re free to babysit for a while. Plus a few other old friends of his practically threw themselves at my feet to help out.” Hanji scooped up a spoonful of what looked like grits into their mouth and continued speaking. “On top of all that, Connie said he wanted to help and you know Sasha had to join in on the fun after that too, so it looks like our little Renny Boy here is going to be well taken care of.”

 

I smiled, happy for both Jean’s healing and Hanji’s quick recovery from despair. “Don't forget me,” I added, scratching Sina behind the ear as she nibbled on some sausage. “You're going to have to pry my “cuddle time” from my cold, dead fingers.”

 

Hanji burst into a laugh. “Exactly! We've got the whole week covered! I daresay we may have our boy back even before then!”

 

With all the excitement and attention of the morning, Jean had been exposed to more than a dozen people at once and it seemed to have helped immensely. Even now, Jean had managed to sit up in bed and stared listlessly at his food. I helped to nudge his hand every now and then to remind his fingers how a spoon worked and slowly, bite by tiny bite, Jean managed to eat a bit of oatmeal. I'd never been so proud.

 

Memories of Jean taking care of me when I had been sick flooded my mind, but I had only been struck with pneumonia. A little fluid in the lungs was nothing compared to the terrors that a coma could bring. Jean was still not all there, and he had a lot of work to do in order to recover, but at least I could be there for him like he had been for me.

 

Hanji hummed as they inspected Jean, chewing methodically and squinting their eyes at something they had spotted. Then, without warning, Hanji lifted their hand to touch the side of Jean’s head as he worked another bite of oatmeal into his mouth. He didn't even notice, but Hanji frowned.

 

“His skin is cold. And his ears are red, too,” they said, then set aside their plate to stand up and leave. “Lemme see if I have something for him.”

 

I looked to Jean, still mindlessly digging his spoon into his oatmeal and not even reacting to the world around him. Carefully, I lifted my hand to touch his cheek and noticed that it was, in fact, rather cold. Jean closed his eyes and leaned into the warmth of my hand, spoon still sticking out of his mouth because he forgot to take it out.

 

Gently, I slipped the spoon from his lips but Jean opened his eyes at the loss of my hand. He really was cold. I put my hand back on his cheek and Jean instantly closed his eyes again, almost nuzzling into my palm. My other hand went to his other cheek and gently rubbed my thumb over his skin, trying to bring him as much comfort as I could. Jean did me one better and leaned into my chest, actually sighing as my body heat touched his.

 

“We're going to have to watch him.” I jumped as Hanji unexpectedly walked back into the room. They waved a dark green beanie around victoriously before they shoved it over Jean’s head. “He's practically a newborn since he can't tell us what he wants. Only difference is he can't even cry. I think.”

 

“That  _ will _ be a problem,” I mumble. “I guess we'll just have to keep on our toes.”

 

Hanji stood back up and shoved their fists to their hips with a nod of satisfaction at the beanie on Jean's head. “I'll let the others know about it. Do you need some time to yourself? Shower and all that?”

 

A grimace is the only answer I can give. I really do need some time, but I don't want to let go of Jean just yet. But, it won't be good if I don't take care of myself either. I finally relented and nodded with a sigh. 

 

Hanji nodded as well, their smile still bright. “I'm pretty sure Connie said he was free this morning. He can take the first shift.” They held their hand out to help me up. “Come on.”

 

I took their hand with a reserved smile and heaved myself up from off the bed. Might as well do this quick. Hanji smiled even brighter as I dusted off my pants but as soon as I took a few steps, Jean was already up and following me out. 

 

Both Hanji and myself simultaneously rushed forward to stop Jean before he ran out of I.V. attached to the wall and got caught by the needle in his hand. His eyes were still distant, unseeing, but he looked to us as though he were trying to figure out what we were doing and why we were stopping him.

 

“Well, it seems he can walk,” Hanji chuckled.

 

I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it's great! Jean is starting to function much faster than any of us had anticipated. On the other, Jean is healing too fast in the wrong area and can now wander wherever he pleases and get stuck in any given situation without a working mind to get himself safely out of it. So yeah. That's great.

 

“Well, he's mostly sucked it all up anyways. I'd say it's alright for a walk.” Hanji made quick work of the I.V. and strapped on a bandaid over the new hole in Jean's hand, still smiling brilliantly. “Alright, Renny boy, let's get you over to uncle baldy, shall we?”

 

With that, Hanji grabbed onto Jean's wrist and physically skipped out the door, happily babbling some story about ‘the good ol’ days’ as they went. They practically sparkled rainbows out of their butt with how giddy they were.

 

Sina and I shared a look at Hanji’s expense but didn't do much else after that. Just shook my head again and quickly made my way to the bathroom. A shower, some hair care and teeth brushing shouldn't take too much “cuddle time” off my plate.

.

.

.

 

As it turns out, my time had indeed been cut relatively short. Having been denied showers for - I believe- seven months straight left me with an appreciation for hygiene. Without even realizing it, I had turned into, pardon my French, a bit of a shower whore. When given the chance, I'd stay under the spray for much longer than I'd realize and get lost in the feeling of hot, clean water. Before I knew it, I'd be in the bathroom for almost an hour before I would be even remotely close to clean.

 

Aside from that, I had decided to take the dishes from our breakfast to the kitchen to be cleaned. It was obvious common courtesy, but then I got lost trying to find the kitchen and when I finally did, I was immediately given the title of dishwasher thanks to being caught at the sink with more than one bowl in hand. It was almost lunch time by the time I had escaped kitchen duty and by that point, I was desperate to find Jean just so I could relax for a little bit. That in itself proved to be an issue as well.

 

The hideout that Hanji lived in was apparently a large, underground base.  _ Very _ large. And Connie was nowhere in sight, no matter how far I looked.

 

So here I stand, almost dinner time, tired, achy from standing and walking for hours on end after our battle the day before and getting a little cranky without any food in my belly or a Jean by my side. Needless to say, this isn't one of my best moments.

 

“Marco!”

 

I was so busy searching that I had to stop and walk back to an open doorway I had passed to find the person calling me. Eren sighed at me when we caught eyes and uncrossed his arms.

 

“There you are; we've been waiting for you,” Eren grumbled. He stepped aside to reveal- oh, thank goodness, Jean sitting on a couch with Armin who had a book in his lap. Eren crossed his arms and pushed his face into my field of vision as he walked to the couch. “I know Armin doesn't mind but we can't be responsible for babysitting the entire day.”

 

“Eren, it's fine, it's barely been an hour,” Armin insisted. “Besides, it's perfect timing. We just finished the chapter.”

 

I didn't really pay much attention to the squabbling around me because I was too focused on getting over to Jean. He sat in the corner of the couch wrapped up in a blanket and leaning against the arm, giving me easy access to touch his shoulders. What I couldn't reach, however, were his legs strewn so easily over Armin’s lap.

 

It was a nice sight to see if I'm to be completely honest. Two people I care about relaxing after a hard battle, focusing on the other and staying out of harm’s way. It really helped to steady my rapid heartbeat the longer I watched them because of how peaceful it all was.

 

“You’ve got to stop over exaggerating, Eren,” Armin chided. “Even if it actually was all day, you didn't have to stick around the whole time while I was here.”

 

Eren huffed irritably and crossed his arms again, practically pouting to the corner of the room. “But then you would have been cooped up all day, too.”

 

“And I don't mind that, Eren; you know that,” Armin said. “You're the one who needs to get out and run around a bit. It's alright.”

 

“Whatever,” Eren growled. “He's here now, so let's go get some grub.”

 

“Mind if we come too?” I asked and gave kind of a bashful shrug. “I got lost looking for you. I haven't eaten since breakfast.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, that's fine, just hurry it up!” Eren walked up to the couch and yanked off Jean’s blanket to pull him up., After making sure Armin was getting up as well, Eren grabbed onto Jean's wrist and started walking out the door. It wasn't even a good four footsteps before Jean jolted back, causing Eren to stop and look as well. “Oh, what now?”

 

Armin and I were there in an instant as Jean started swaying. His head had flung back to stare at the ceiling and his eyes were wide, slowly turning a familiar shade of blue.

 

“Woah,” Jean whispered, and a smile crept onto his face.

 

“Jean?” I can't believe this. “Jean, can you hear me?”

 

Jean chuckled, still swaying on his feet and not even trying to fight gravity as he let his entire body go loose and fluid. We rushed to ease him to the ground before he let himself fall completely, but from his expression, it looked as though he wouldn't have cared either way. His blue eyes were half-lidded now, staring up at nothing, and his smile was easygoing and carefree.

 

“It's okay,” Jean drawled. “Everything's okay.”

 

“Oh my God,” Eren snickered. “I think he's high!” With that revelation, Eren quickly snatched out his phone from his pocket and began- what I assumed- to record Jean lying blissed out on the floor. “You are  _ never _ going to live this down.”

 

“Marco,” Armin hissed beside me. “His eyes-”

 

“I know,” I whispered right back. That's my magic.

 

Armin bit his lip as we shared the thought, then got up and bolted out through the door to find help. If I had gone, I'm about ninety-eight percent sure I'd have gotten lost again, and I think Armin agreed. In the meantime, the best place for me to be right now is helping Jean come back to earth.

 

“Jean,” I whispered to him, gently shaking his shoulder. “Jean, it's me.”

 

Blue eyes dragged over to me, drugged out beyond belief from the peace that oozed from my spell. His gaze stayed on me much longer than anyone would need to recognize me without his drunken stupor, but when he did, Jean's eyes lit up and his smile grew wider. 

 

“Marco,” he cooed, lazily holding up a hand to touch my cheek and shush me long and low. “It's okay. It's gonna be okay.”

 

“Yeah?” I played along, ignoring the snort Eren was failing to hold in. “You think so?”

 

“Yeah,” Jean replied, entirely too dreamy for a man like himself. “Yeah, it is.”

 

“Well, you're talking,” I reasoned. “So I'd say that's pretty alright with me.”

 

“No, no,” Jean slurred, shaking his head. “It's okay.” His smile widened with a chuckle that quickly infected Eren. “It's okay; it's okay.”

 

“This is gold,” Eren muttered, and I admit, I threw him a nasty glare. “Say, ‘high,’ horse face!”

 

Jean drawled out a loopy response, still unable to focus on anything as his head swayed from side to side with giggles. Eren got another glare from me because of that. Before I could say anything, however, my eyes locked onto another man’s as he walked into the room ten times more angry than I could ever be.

 

“What the fuck is this?” If memory serves, this man’s name is Levi, and if Eren trying and failing to shove his phone back into his pocket says anything, it's that this Levi character is not one to mess with. “What the hell is he doing on the floor?”

 

“It's my fault,” I told him, struggling a bit when Jean tried to touch my hair. “It's the spell I used to counter the curse. I made it so that Jean would know everything was alright-”

 

“It's okay.”

 

“-and it looks like it's coming back somehow.” I laid my hands over Jean's to try and keep him still, and thankfully, Jean turned a smile to me. “I think it might be trying to stop the curse from the inside out.”

 

Levi’s eyes widened with what appears to be rage. “How stupid are you?!” he shouted. “How the fuck could you think that was a good idea?”

 

“It's okay,” Jean whispered again, reverently.

 

I'm a little stunned from Levi’s reaction, to be honest. “I'm sorry?”

 

“What, you're deaf now, too?” Levi blamed. “He shouldn't even be here!”

 

Eren, having tossed his phone to chair beside him, held a loose hand up in a placating gesture and took a tentative step forward. “Levi-”

 

“Shut it,” Levi hissed, never taking anything but his attention off of me until Eren instantly backed down. “Who the fuck do you think you are shoving that shit down his throat, huh?”

 

“It's okay.”

 

Okay, now I'm mad. “Well what did you expect me to do?” I asked right back. “You weren't there; he needed to know he was safe!”

 

“It's okay.”

 

Levi huffed out a humorless laugh. “With that shitty lie, I doubt it.” He took a step forward, head low. “How is it going to be okay, huh? Tell me.”

 

“Okay. It's okay.”

 

My chest puffed up in anger. “The nightmare curse was showing him his worst nightmare- it wasn't real,” I spat. “He needed to know that it was all an illusion; that he was safe-”

 

“And now that's all he thinks!”

 

“It's okay…”

 

Levi stood a little taller to square his shoulders but dropped into a defensive hunch once again as soon as he did. “How is he going to know if something is wrong?” he bit. “If everything is okay, how is he supposed to fix it when he clearly needs to get out of danger?”

 

“It's… ”

 

I shook my head. “We'll be here for him; we'll help him-”

 

“But he won't accept that anything is wrong!” Levi shouted, becoming progressively louder. “How can he accept help if he doesn't think he needs it? How do you expect to get him to fix his cuts or broken bones or even his fucking hunger if he doesn't feel anything but ‘okay’? He won't last a week!”

 

“It's- it's okay.”

 

“I…” It can't be true.

 

Levi leaned closer to sneer at me. “You fucked up, kid.”

 

“It's-”

 

A gasp cuts through the room, clear and sharp and suddenly, I'm being shoved back into the couch as Jean scrambles to get away from me.

 

“Jean-”

 

A scream and a well placed kick to the nose shuts me up real quick. I don't even have time to blink before Jean is struggling to get away and flopping onto his back, moving furniture with the force of his kicking and screaming and clawing at his neck. No one organized our attack as I pounce to pin his legs to the floor and Eren and Levi restrain each of Jean’s arms through his new fit. Jean is screaming just like he had on the battlefield, terrified and sobbing and so loud that heaven itself could probably hear it; though I doubt that a wonderful place would want to house such wretched sounds.

 

Dark, almost black-violet colors filled Jean’s eyes to max capacity as the nightmare curse took over his body. The three of us wrestled to keep Jean in place, to keep him from hurting himself or anyone else. Jean, in the meantime, fought us with everything he had, and with the sight of his eyes, none of us could really blame him.

 

“Stop it!” Levi shouted against Jean’s struggling. “I said stop!”

 

“Shut up!” Eren raged, then slapped his hand over Jean's mouth, successfully muffling those horrid screams so that they echoed off of Eren’s hand.

 

The three of us watched with absolute shock or wide, pain filled eyes as Jean struggled, sobbing in the face of his fears and begging wordlessly to be free from his nightmares. Eren clutched onto Jean's arm to keep it from scratching past the bandages for more scars into Jean's neck and wrists- scars that Levi seemed to be fixated on while Jean gripped the shirt over his shoulder- and I lay sprawled out over wild, flailing legs that continued to kick into me the longer the nightmare lasted.

 

“Jean!” Armin appeared out of nowhere with Moblit just footsteps behind. “What happened?”

 

“Nightmare curse,” Eren supplied with a grunt when Jean grabbed a handful of hair. “It's taken over.”

 

“Nightma- what? What happened to Marco's magic?” Armin sputtered. 

 

“It switched!” Levi screamed just as Jean tried to kick me through the wall. He's much stronger when he's scared.

 

“Oh, God,” Armin whispered. He went to kneel next to Jean, to comfort him if he could, but Moblit was faster.

 

“No,” he uttered. “He needs to work through this.”

 

Armin’s eyes widened. “Can't we do  _ something _ ?”

 

The grim look Moblit wore was all the answer he could give. For a while, Eren, Levi and I worked together to keep Jean restrained, but his screaming persisted. Armin turned away to press his hands over his ears because even with Eren muffling the sound, hearing Jean scream was absolutely awful. 

 

It wasn't until a few minutes later that the trembling began, and the screaming turned into gasping, broken sobs. The fight in Jean's limbs settled down until he lay limp and shaking, his eyes back to the swirling vortex of color like it had been before, and for once, I'm grateful for it. I'm even happy with the return of the lifeless gaze to the ceiling if it means I never have to hear those awful screams again.

 

Slowly, Eren lifted his hand from covering Jean's mouth and waited with baited, anxious breath to see if it was finally over. Jean stayed staring, silent and calm, so Eren wiped the saliva off of his hand and onto his jeans with minimal disgust. One by one, the three of us holding Jean down eased away from him, and Moblit knelt down beside him to check him, but not before wiping away the still fresh tears from Jean’s temples. We were silent, save for the panting breaths, but unfortunately, we had grown used to this treatment. Finally, Moblit sighed.

 

“Well?” Levi huffed.

 

Moblit shook his head and opened his eyes. “Not something you want to hear,” he said with a pointed look. “He's actually healing too fast.”

 

“Too fast?” Eren said, confused. “How can he be healing too fast?”

 

Moblit sighed again. “It's too much strain on his body, let alone his mind. The other magic is realizing that he's regaining his strength and want to shut him down before that happens.” He rubbed his eyes. “They're greedy. They want to savor his energy for themselves. Not Jean, not the other magic- just one, and they'll do whatever it takes to win that fight.” Moblit stopped to take a breath. “Even if it means killing him for a quick fix.”

 

“Oh, come on,” Eren groaned, completely exasperated. “Can't you just tell them to leave?”

 

“I'm a psychic, Eren, not a principal,” Moblit said dryly. 

 

Eren rolled his eyes. “Whatever, McCoy.”

 

“We better get him back to his room,” Armin said, voice shaky and uncertain. “In the meantime, what about his treatments?”

 

The medic rubbed at his temples and sat back on his haunches to look down at Jean, who was still staring endlessly at the ceiling. Moblit shook his head, muttering under his breath a curse or two of his own but took a moment to look around the group for an answer. He didn't seem phased to find Levi missing from the room.

 

“We should probably limit the number of people he's exposed to,” Moblit murmured. “If that's what's healing him then we need to do whatever it takes to slow it down.” He stopped to give Armin a good, hard stare. “But that doesn't mean we cut him off completely. We  _ do _ want him to heal.”

 

“So what; treat him, don't treat him, what do you want us to do, Moblit?” Eren was getting hostile. “What's so bad about just waiting the spells out, huh? It'd save us all a hell of a lot of trouble.”

 

“Only if you want him to be sucked dry,” Moblit snorted, then turned a steely glare to Eren. “They don't want his body, they want the energy that comes  _ from _ his body. They’ll soak it up like a sponge and that's exactly what we don't want to do.” He hardened his glare. “We can't let any magic stay put because eventually, it'll take over. If that does happen then he's stuck like that until they burn him up.” He jerked a thumb at Jean, pointing out his comatose state. “Some take weeks, some only hours, some even take a few decades if they're really sadistic and hungry, but any way that it happens, it's a terrible way to live out the rest of your life; wouldn't you agree,  _ Eren _ ?”

 

An expression fell over Eren’s face that I had never seen before. Something dark and haunted. He stared at Moblit with this expression for all of a minute before looking away with a growl, hackles twitching.

 

“Then what do you suppose we do?” Eren hissed.

 

Moblit remained unphased. “Take him back to his room. Keep him away from people.”

 

“Just this morning you were saying how much he needed to see people; now you're saying the exact opposite?” Eren snapped, and the venom from his voice made me shudder. “Do you even know what you're doing? ‘Cause it sounds like a bunch of bullshit!”

 

“That's medicine,” Moblit laughed humorlessly, rolling his eyes like he's had to explain this a thousand times. “If it were a simple issue, we'd have already cured him, but it's not. He's a special case. We don't know how to fix it, so the only thing we  _ can _ do is work with what we've got, and that means changing his treatment as many times as it takes because, you're right, Eren, it  _ is _ a bunch of bullshit and we  _ don't _ know what we're doing. This is the best we can do for him.”

 

A fire lit in Eren’s eye and he almost charged Moblit were it not for Armin stopping him. “So he's a lab rat, is that it?”

 

“If it keeps him alive; yes.” Moblit’s expression was cold and hard as he stared Eren down, but at least it was honest. 

 

Eren seemed to register this as well, even if he didn't like it. With a huff, he yanked out of Armin’s hold and stormed out of the room, leaving only the four of us. The silence was maddening.

 

The faintest of squeezes touched my hand and I looked down. At one point, I had ended up crawling over to Jean without even realizing it, and now I’ve found myself holding his hand. His skin is clammy from a layer of sweat, and his breaths are low and heavy, no doubt exhausted from yet another battle with the nightmare curse. I can't stop myself from cupping his face with my free hand, and I can't really find it in me to care. I need this about as much as Jean does.

 

In an alarmingly gentle tone, Moblit turned to Armin who had been left holding himself off to the side. “Do you know who all came in contact with Jean today?”

 

Armin shook his head. “A few but, not all. I can ask around.”

 

“That would really help,” Moblit said, his voice calm. “If we can find out how much he was exposed today then we can work out a safe amount for him from there. He won't have to be alone.”

 

Armin nodded, and if I had said that this news didn't bring peace to the both of us then I would be lying.

 

The medic tilted his head in thought as he looked to inspect Jean again. “The bandages seemed to have kept his nails away from the initial attack,” Moblit uttered, mostly to himself. “Looks like these will be staying on for a while.”

 

“I'll take him to his room,” I muttered. “Do you know if he can eat?”

 

Moblit turned to leave the room. “Only one way to find out.”

 

For another minute or two, I simply sat there on the floor with Jean, suddenly zapped of energy. I ran my thumb over his cheek bone and sighed at the unjust predicament he was forced into. None of this was fair.

 

“Marco?” Armin’s voice would sound timid to anyone else in the area, but I've heard that tone before. “You've been awful quiet for a bit. Something wrong?”

 

I knew it.

 

A scoff of a laugh jumped out of me without my permission. Really, it came out of nowhere, but now it's out. I could never hide anything from him anyways. Somehow, I feel as though no one really could.

 

“You mean aside from the obvious?” I ask with a tired smile.

 

That got me a similar reaction from Armin as he crossed his arms and stepped closer. “I don't know,” he muttered, kneeling down on his heels to inspect Jean. “I may be wrong but it looks like something might have happened while I was gone.” He turned to look at me. “Was it Levi?”

 

I shook my head with a sigh. “Bull's eye,” I mumbled. “I keep telling you that you should be a therapist. Or a detective.” I pursed my lips to him. “Therapist detective?”

 

Armin chuckled as he shoved my shoulder. With all of this emotional turmoil going around, it's nice to be able to hear some relief once in a while. Still though. Once Armin was done, he sighed down to Jean with a sad but thoughtful stare, choosing his words wisely before speaking like he always did.

 

“Don't take it to heart,” Armin whispered. “Levi is harsh because he cares so much. About Jean especially.” He turned his eyes to me. “Levi’s not the kind of man to sugarcoat or beat around the bush. He will always tell you what's on his mind when it comes to the black and white. Even if he doesn't know how to say it nicely.” He paused to grimace. “Because he never knows how to say it nicely.”

 

“Great,” I sighed. “So what's the nice version of ‘you put bad magic in this kid that I find important in my life and you're part of the reason he's stuck like this,’ hmm?”

 

Armin considered this, looking around in thought. “That if he were in your shoes then he probably would have done the same to protect Jean. Only, in a different way.”

 

My eyes fell upon Jean once more and I couldn't stop the swell of emotion that followed. I swallowed hard and took a shaky breath. “Great. And how do you know this?”

 

A hand found itself on my shoulder as Armin attempted to bring my gaze up from the floor. It didn't really work, but he answered me anyways. “Because we all tried to stop it in our own way. You just got there first.” That does pull up a smile, weak as it is, but Armin takes it with a shrug. “That, and I've known the old fart for a few years now and have learned to speak fluent dick.”

 

A giggle burst out of me so violently that I almost ended up rolling onto the floor, with Armin not too far behind me. We tried so hard not to blow into full blown boisterous laughter that I'm pretty sure we discovered a new shade of red through our skin. For a few moments, all the stress and the fear and the exhaustion, and the bad blood- it all fell away, and we were able to laugh at a bad joke like we used to. It was wonderful. 

 

Armin and I shared a smile, glad to be able to be at peace for once and it was at that moment when Jean hummed out an almost inaudible sigh. We both looked down to him, not really sure whether to be happy or worried, but even that tension was quickly swept away at the sight of his smile. It was small, barely there at all with only the slightest tilt at the side of his lips, but I took it. Any smile of Jean's is worth more than gold.

 

“I guess he likes laughing,” Armin said. I think maybe he was trying for a joke. Something to keep this lightness in the air, perhaps. He shrugged. “I mean, who doesn't, right?”

 

I chuckled with a shake of my head. Always trying to fix things, these two. It's no wonder why I fell for them. “Come on. Let's get Smiley here to bed.”

.

.

.

 

Jean was exhausted. The moment his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep, silent sleep. When Moblit stopped by with our dinner, neither of us wanted to wake him for it, as it was ‘probably the healthier option than whatever monstrosity Aurluo had cooked up anyways’, as Moblit so eloquently put it. So, Jean slept on in peace while Sina took his dinner.

 

“Whoever thought to let a vampire in the kitchen is an absolute fool,” Sina muttered as she licked up her paw to clean away whatever ‘sauce’ that had gotten onto her muzzle. “I doubt that beast has tasted anything in centuries.”

 

“At least it's something,” I tell her quietly. “If it comes down to unpleasant rather than hungry, I'll take that any day.”

 

“Because you are not a fool,” Sina chuckled. “Simply misguided in your lack of high standards.”

 

It's been awhile since Sina could talk to me again. She was so angry and hurt and scared for Jean that I couldn't really blame her. That fog of emotion encircled her into silence, but tonight, after watching me put Jean to bed, something changed in her and the haze lifted.

 

For the first time since this all started, I could hear her voice clearly. I still kept my distance if only to preserve what relationship I had left with her, but I must admit it was nice having someone around to talk with again. Especially her.

 

I set aside Jean's plate with my own and stood up to change while Sina finished her bath. Not much had really happened today but I still knew that once I settled into bed, I'd be too tired to try and fight off sleep. My soul was weary and my bones ached from that which was this day and I was ready to put it behind me. That, and Jean kicked me really hard today and my stomach still hurt so I just wanted to lay down and sleep through the bruising process. 

 

Freshly dressed, I turned back to bed to see Sina already waiting for me. She lay curled up in her usual spot in the nook between Jean's neck and shoulder to watch over him, but her eyes kept drifting close in sleep. The tip of her tail twitched periodically, but other than that, she didn't move much.

 

“That expression is rather dire,” Sina said, eyes still closed.

 

“What can you see behind your eyelids?” I ask, feeling a bit petulant about the comment. 

 

“What has been plainly broadcasted, child,” she responded, finally opening her eyes. “I needn't have my eyes open to see the same face you've worn each time you look at him and think too hard.”

 

My gaze dropped at that. More than likely she was right, but I wasn't really in the mood to have it pointed out again. Instead, I let out a sigh as I crawled into bed and turned off the lamp.

 

I settled under the covers and laid my arm over Jean's waist, finally feeling my muscles relax as they recognized a mattress and body heat beneath me. It was quiet and warm and comfortable, and I was just on the brink of sleep when Sina spoke again.

 

“I was angry,” she said softly. “But after seeing the evidence for myself, I've learned that I was wrong. For that, I apologize.”

 

I blinked at her, confused until she continued on.

 

“I know how much you care for him,” she said. “It's why you blame yourself.” 

 

I opened my mouth to respond but Sina wouldn't let me. 

 

“I have loved this child since the moment I knew he came into existence. I have watched him grow from a thought to a newborn to a man, and from all of this, I tell you truthfully that no matter the risk, no matter the consequence, my child has always charged in head first into situations of which he does not belong.” She turned her pearly, green eyes to me and they shined in the dark. “It has always been this way because he learned from his heart rather than a teacher. That is why I stood behind his decision to seek you before all of this began.”

 

I swallowed hard but said nothing. It made sense, what she said, but at the same time, I couldn't get rid of the guilt. Jean may have followed his heart but that didn't mean I didn't play some role in making his decisions. After all, Jean would do anything for his friends… I'd like to think we've at least made it to that level by now.

 

“You may be old and wise,” I whispered. “But that doesn't mean you know everything, my dear.”

 

“True,” Sina said with a flick of her tail. “But I do know my family. And my boy would always choose to follow someone to hell and back if it meant that it was the right thing to do. In this case, it was for Armin. Now.” She closed her eyes again and turned away to yawn. “Stop these silly notions that you had anything to do in influencing him through that portal and get some rest. He'll need you in the morning. Good night.”

 

With that, she laid her head down on her paws and purred into Jean's ear, burying her face into his skin to feel his heartbeat.

 

Somehow a chuckle found its way through a sigh, and I laid my head back down to rest as well. There wouldn't have been a portal if I hadn't brought him into this world. Then again, it was more of Jean barging in rather than me opening the door. No one could stop Jean once he set his mind to something. Whatever it was that brought him to this point was all because of him breaking in. I don't know how many times it has to be said before it actually sinks in for me.

 

I watched Jean's chest rise and fall with each breath and found peace in the rhythm. Whatever it was that made Jean jump into the skip must have been worth it if he was willing to risk his life. He may be stubborn, but he's not unreasonable, and he knew the risks before this all started. That's why he had chosen to stay behind as a medic in the first place. If Armin really was the reason for Jean changing his mind, then I have no doubt that it was done with those thoughts in mind.

 

Jean always did what he thought was right. I knew it. Sina knew it, and she made a point of reminding me so. Jean would have probably said the same thing to make me stop blaming myself. Only, a lot less eloquent. Maybe a few swears. Definitely a few swears.

 

I shook my head with one last sigh as sleep began to take over. They've been together for so long that they sound like the other, and I liked that. What I liked even more was that I had been around long enough to notice. With that in mind, I know Sina’s words are true, even if they are hard to swallow. 

 

So, I do the only thing I can and close my eyes. Morning would come soon, and Jean would need me again. The least I can do for him is be there for him like he always is for me, and that thought brings another smile to my lips.

 

“Good night.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 5am. Why am I awake send help.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so, remember when I said my longer fics were more angsty? This is just the start. It's not too bad here, but it will get darker along the road. I like to add in humor and cutesy things to keep it from making me look like a serial killer but, I like making my reader feel things. I thrive on your emotions.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you like it, cuz there's more. Also, unbetad. I might even make a series if it feels right.
> 
> I'll try to update at least twice a month- maybe once a week if work allows it. Idk, I'm bad at this. *Flails away into the sunset*


End file.
